The World Is A Small Place
by buxy
Summary: This is a collection of various plot bunnies involving the Cohen siblings (OCs) and how they interact with the staff of Gaffney Chicago Med. First encounters, moments on and off the job, family relationships, developing friendships... Will include most if not all the main characters. Featuring drama, H/C and some fluff. ! Open for requests / prompts !
1. Will

**This could turn into a full One Chicago story someday, though right now, I don't really have the time. But because these plot bunnies have been running around in my brain for a while now, I decided to let them out :)**

It was hardly surprising that Will met Aaron first. No, that wasn't entirely right. He actually met Lucy first, during that whole debacle with the grenade going off in the ER. But he figured it didn't really count because it wasn't as much _meeting_ her as ending up in a crisis together. Apart from her first name, he had nothing. So it wasn't wrong to say that the first member of the Cohen family he really met - as in getting to know etc - was Aaron.

Since they both worked at Gaffney Chicago Med, it was only a matter of time before the ER attending crossed paths with the ER nurse. However, it was only after a patient had died despite their best efforts that he talked to the younger man about something other than the job.

xxx

Marianne Leigh, aged 16, had been brought in by paramedics after she had collapsed at a party. She was heavily intoxicated and, even worse, on drugs. "We were just having fun", her friend Ava had offered when asked about it, petulantly crossing her arms.

Whatever they had classified as 'fun' sadly became a nightmare for both the patient and the doctors. The mixture of alcohol and what they finally determined to be an overdose of Ecstasy had wreaked havoc on Marianne's system. Her vitals were all over the place, blood pressure and heart rate sky-high. Her body temperature was off the charts and to make matters worse, she was choking on her own vomit because her jaws were clenched firmly shut. Then the seizure hit and it all went south.

After almost thirty minutes of fighting to save the young girl's life, Will was forced to call it. Marianne's body hadn't been able to cope. Renal failure, cardiac arrythmia, O2 sats plummeting. In the end, her heart had given out and after all attempts to resuscitate her had failed, the doctor had been forced to admit defeat.

"Time of death: 01:42", Will announced with a heavy sigh, slowly pulling off his gloves.

The medical team that had crowded the small ER cubicle started filing out, one after the other. In the end, only two people were left. Will and the young nurse with dark blond hair who always wore his watch on the right wrist. What was his name? Adam? Aidan? Aaron. Yes, that was it.

Aaron was still staring at Marianne, sadness etched into his features. Sadness and something more. Something deeper, rawer. Was it fear? Will didn't have time to study the younger man's expression more closely because suddenly Maggie was there, ushering them both out in that decisive but gentle manner of hers.

"Come on", she said, giving the doctor a nudge before moving to the blond.

Aaron startled and blinked at her. "She's so young, Maggie", he spoke, voice quiet before trailing off. Will got the impression that there was something left unsaid, something he couldn't understand.

The charge nurse smiled knowingly at him and patted his shoulder, keeping a hand on his back as she steered him to the door. "Take a break", she advised. "Get some fresh air, grab some coffee." She glanced at Will, signalising him that this was meant for him, too.

Both men just nodded, neither daring (or both simply too tired) to argue.

xxx

"I sometimes wonder how people can do these things."

The admission came so completely out of the blue that it took Will a moment to gather his wits. Aaron was sitting across from him, blue eyes peering at him through a few strands that had fallen into his face. "It's just so stupid. Why would you want to take something that skrews with your mind and messes up your body to the point where it can actually kill you?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know", he offered.

The blond sighed and nodded, gaze dropping to the cup of coffee he held between his hands. "Yeah. Me neither." He shook his head. "Sorry, Dr Halstead, you don't need me ranting at you."

"It's alright", Will replied, waving off the unnecessary apology. "I sometimes go on these rants too." He chuckled and added: "Usually, Jay is the one who has to suffer through them."

A knowing smirk appeared on the nurse's face. "Older Brother?", he guessed.

Will confirmed, a smile making its way onto his features as well.

There was a pause, then Aaron smacked a palm to his forehead. "Of course!", he exclaimed. "Jesus Christ, talk about stupid! Your brother's Jay, the detective!" Seeing the startled expression on the doctor's face, he chuckled, slightly ashamed of his outburst, and explained: "He works with my brother and is pretty close with my sister."

That tidbit of information was what Will needed and it finally clicked. He rolled his eyes at his own blindness and realised: "Lucy. Your sister is Lucy." Suddenly, the nurse's words in the ER made a lot more sense.

Aaron nodded and he continued: "Which means that Oliver is your brother... how the heck did I not see this?"

"Your guess is as good as mine", the blond commented with a half-shrug and a lopsided smile. "I mean, _I_ didn't put two and two together either."

The ice was broken and with the connection of their siblings working together and being friends, conversation began to flow easily between them. Soon enough, Will would gain the friendship of the Cohen siblings, with all that entailed: Sincere smiles, a friendly ear, protective loyalty and unwavering, unconditional support. Not that he knew it yet.  
For the moment, they both simply enjoyed the downtime while it lasted. They knew well enough that there would be a new patient coming through the doors of the ER anytime soon.


	2. Maggie

With a soft sigh, Maggie tore her gaze away from the scene before her. She felt like an intruder even though rationally, she knew that the glass doors didn't exactly provide much privacy. She listened with half an ear as Dr Rhodes and Dr Halstead discussed their patient. A small smile tugged at her lips. The two doctors, well-known for their no-longer-really-a-rivalry and their bickering, hadn't only agreed with each other, they had actually become a quite formidable team (and slightly scary to anyone who dared oppose them) in an effort to save the life in their hands. They had simply let their differences fall by the wayside as their sole focus became treating what turned out to be a serious case of sodium carbonate poisoning.

Sighing again, Maggie looked over to the room once more, starkly reminded of a similar scene a few years before when she hadn't yet been a charge nurse. It had been her first encounter with the Cohen family, or at least its younger half.

xxx

 _4 years before_

Tyres screeched as a car came to an abrupt stop in front of the ER. Sirens wailed and a sea of blue lights lit up the area as half a dozen squad cars appeared from all sides. "Help!", a female voice screamed, "please, somebody help!" The doors opened and a distraught girl came rushing into the ER and to the front desk. "My brother!", she cried, voice cracking with desperation. "He's bleeding out in the car!"

The ER exploded into a flurry of activity, doctors and nurses rushing out behind the girl. She yanked open the passenger door of the dusty red Ford and lo and behold, there was an unconscious young man - no older than twenty - slumped in the seat. Maggie stepped around them to approach the girl, noticing that she was also covered in blood.

The young man's condition was critical and declining rapidly. Six gunshot wounds, but only four exit wounds. Internal injuries. Shock and heavy blood loss.

The girl had stepped back from the car and was watching with wide eyes as her brother was transferred onto a gurney and rushed into the ER. She ran a trembling hand through her tousled dirty blonde hair. Her fingers were slick with blood. The front of her shirt was also soaked through with huge stains of red and there were splatters on her face. She was shaking and her pallor nearly rivalled her brother's. Her eyes fell on Maggie, who gently wrapped an arm around her quaking shoulders. "Please", she begged in a broken whisper. "I can't lose Ollie."

"Don't worry, honey", the nurse assured her. "We're doing all we can for your brother."

One after the other, the squad cars drove off until only one remained. Alvin Olinsky got out and walked over to Maggie, who was guiding the young girl inside. "Hey Maggie, he greeted. He sounded as tired as he looked. Turning to the terrified teen, his expression softened and he added: "Hello Lucy."

"Hi", she croaked out. Timidly raising her gaze, she asked: "Are we under arrest?" Her tone was flat and filled with exhausted resignation.

Olinsky shook his head. "No. All charges dropped."

Lucy tried to smile, they could see that, but she didn't manage more than a tiny twitch of her lip.

Maggie exchanged a meaningful look with Olinsky, who nodded and headed to the waiting room. "C'mon, honey", she said to the blonde. "Let's get you cleaned up a bit."

xxx

It had been almost a week later that Oliver Cohen's condition improved enough for him to be transferred out of intensive and critical care respectively. Thankfully, it wouldn't be the same this time.

"Doctor Rhodes, Doctor Halstead. How is she?" Sharon Goodwin's calm voice pulled Maggie out of her reverie and she turned around, eager to hear the answer as well.

The two doctors traded a glance, then Rhodes cleared his throat and reported: "There's some irritation to Lucy's respiratory tract, but no lasting damage. The cuts on her hands are minor, they have been cleaned and dressed. Her vitals are stable and her sats are improving, too."

"We're keeping her on oxygen and she'll have to stay at least over night for monitoring", Halstead continued. "She's pretty wiped out and her voice is gone, but she'll be fine."

Mrs Goodwin smiled. "Good", she said, nodding at them before heading back to her office.

Maggie couldn't help but shake her head as Rhodes and Halstead left to inform Lucy's friends of the prognosis. There was a bunch of worried firefighters sitting in the waiting room, along with some concerned detectives and police officers.

"They are actually not arguing", Kimberly commented as she came up to the nurse station to check a patient's data. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"It's the Cohen charm", Lou Ann weighed in with a smirk, making the three of them laugh.

The charge nurse nodded in agreement, looking over to Lucy's room. Oliver had pulled one of the visitor chairs up to the bed and was holding his unconscious sister's hand. Jeremy sat in the other chair and was smiling at something his younger brother had said. Aaron, in his blue scrubs, perched on the armrest of his twin brother's chair, also a smile on his face.

"Yeah...", Maggie murmured pensively, smiling to herself. "The Cohen charm."


	3. Natalie

**Hello guys :) I just wanted to say thanks to all of you who gave this collection of random one-shots a go. And of course shout-out to the people who followed or faved it. It's really not much more than me practicing my writing, getting rid of nagging plot bunnies or staving off boredom, but I'm glad you like it nonetheless.**

 **If any of you have a prompt you'd like me to write about or something like that, don't hesitate to shoot me a review or PM.**

For a moment, Natalie wondered if she had hit her head or had eaten something wrong. Because she was pretty sure that she was seeing double. The rational part of her brain was quick to point out that, in fact, she wasn't because while one version of Aaron was in his usual blue scrubs, the other wore jeans and a grey sweatshirt. Still, for a good minute, the pediatrician worried about the possibility of a) losing her mind or b) having had her coffee spiked.

It didn't help that another, though slightly younger version of Aaron appeared next to them. His hair was shorter than that of the blond nurse and his doppelgänger, the rational voice inside her mind pointed out helpfully.

"Dr Manning?"

She jumped about a foot in the air when Maggie addressed her. _God, I need some sleep_ , she thought. "Huh?", was her very intelligent response.

"Are you alright?", the charge nurse quesitoned, studying her with a worried frown.

Natalie nodded. "Yeah, sorry, just..." She trailed off, eyes wandering back to the curious sight that had completely thrown her.

Maggie followed her gaze and chuckled knowingly. "Ah", she made, smiling at the tired doctor. "Don't worry, it happens to most people."

The three men - yes, it was three men, not hallucinations or the results of an unfavourable chemical mixture - were now joined by a young woman. "Oh." Natalie's brain, which was in desperate need of caffeine and/or rest after a long and incredibly busy shift, finally made the connection. "Aaron has a twin."

"Indeed he has", Maggie confirmed, steering her towards the on-call room. "They're the Cohen siblings. Jeremy is about 4 hours older than Aaron. Oliver is in the middle and Lucy is the youngest."

Natalie hummed in understanding, not resisting as the charge nurse got her settled on the bed. Any questions that might have crossed her mind where quickly replaced by the overwhelming pull of sleep. The last thing she heard was Maggie promising to wake her in an hour or when she was needed.

xxx

Her next meeting with the Cohen siblings (excluding Aaron because they worked together) was with Jeremy and Oliver.

Glancing at her tablet, Natalie made her way to the treatment room, pushing aside the curtain. "Hi, I'm Doctor Manning", she introduced herself. "You're Aaron's brothers, right?"

They both smiled, Jeremy losing the exasperated scowl he had aimed at Oliver the second before. "That's right", the younger of the two confirmed. "I'm Oliver and this is Jeremy."

Introductions over, Natalie decided to see what had brought them to the ER. "So, what happened?", she asked.

"A dog gave me a bit of a nip", Jeremy offered easily.

Oliver grinned and added: "Which translates to 'my arm has been used as a chew toy'."

They were oddly casual about this entire situation, Natalie found. Almost indifferent. She motioned for Jeremy to let her see the injury. He obediently took away the bloodied wad of gauze he had been pressing against his arm, revealing a handful of still oozing puncture wounds. Blood, half-dried in some places, covered his forearm, making it look a lot worse than it was.

"Well, JJ", Oliver quipped, an impressed look on his face. "He got you good."

Jeremy nodded. "Best one yet", he agreed.

Their exchange only caused Natalie's bewilderment to grow. He had been bitten by a dog. He was bleeding. There could be all sorts of bacteria or illnesses transmitted over that bite. And he sounded like a collector who had just found a partiucularly beautiful piece of art. Shaking her head, she started flushing the wounds with saline.

"Oh, by the way, don't worry about rabies and all that", Jeremy spoke up again. "Vinnie is up to date on all his vaccinations."

The doctor smiled. "Good. You wouldn't believe how many times people don't know when I ask them this question."

xxx

The curtain opened and in came Aaron. "Imagine my surprise when Maggie told me you were in here after bleeding all over the waiting room floor", he commented to his twin. Turning to Oliver, he jested: "Did you arrest the offender?"

The youngest of the three laughed, going along with the joke. "Nah, poor guy already felt bad enough", he informed his older brother, who set about handing Natalie all the things she needed to properly treat the bite.

"It wasn't your dog?", the doctor wondered, pausing in her ministrations. "Don't you think the owner should face the consequences?"

The Cohen brothers simultaneously burst out laughing. "He is", Oliver managed to get out.

Natalie frowned, completely confused. "I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Jeremy's a dog handler for the Chicago PD, Doctor Manning", Aaron explained with a smile, taking pity on her. "We're all quite used to him showing up with a scratch or bite from one of his charges."

"This is hardly the first time one of them has given me a nip", Jeremy told her, not even blinking as she gave him a precautionary tetanus shot, "The pups get over-excited sometimes and even the old guard can get spooked."

The brunette doctor smiled as she bandaged the wound after applying some anti-bacterial cream. "Well", she commented, "if all patients were as relaxed as you, our job would be a lot easier."

"No doubt."

Aaron chuckled and patted his twin's shoulder when his pager went off. "I'll see you two later, alright?" Receiving two identical smiles, he glanced at Natalie before rushing off to wherever he was required to be.


	4. Ethan

**Hi guys :) So, as the title suggests, this chapter is about Ethan. The next will be CBloom2's prompt. Prompts are still open and I'll do them on a first come, first serve basis as well as mix them with my own chapters. So if you have something you'd like me to write, shoot me a review or PM.**

Ethan watched with mild amusement as Jeremy flopped down into the seat across from him. He looked slightly worse for wear and took a long swig of his beer.

"Tough day?", the doctor questioned.

The young man chuckled. "You could say that", he answered. "There's a huge construction site right in front of my apartment."

Ethan grimaced in sympathy before motioning to the bruises peeking out under his friend's sleeve. "And that?"

A blond eyebrow arched. "Can't turn off the doctor instincts, huh?", Jeremy teased lightly, giving him a wry look.

The resident mimicked his expression and shot back: "Just like you can turn off your policeman instincts."

Jeremy grinned and took another sip of his beer. "Let me just start off by telling you I'm fine", he said. He knew the tendency of medical professionals to worry, especially when they hadn't been the ones to examine the injuries. "I got knocked off a wall by 120 pounds of fur and exuberance." Seeing Ethan's bemused look, he elaborated: "We freshed up the training of some of the dogs and Banja was particularly excited to see me. She's always been an affectionate one."

Their conversation revolved around their work for a while before turning to other topics. Friends and colleagues drifted by to say hello and exchange a few words. Eventually, Jay joined them. As _Molly's_ filled with more and more off-duty firefighters, paramedics, police officers, doctors, nurses and other patrons, the three men were content to talk about whatever came to their minds while enjoying their drinks and the relaxed atmosphere of the bar.

xxx

Jay noticed it first. Ethan not long afterwards.

Their friend wasn't feeling well. It wasn't the bruises, those didn't seem to bother him at all. Jeremy's smile, just as wide and genuine as any other time, didn't quite reach his eyes. And while he wasn't the most boisterous person, he was just a little bit quieter than usual. That in itself wouldn't have been all too worrying. They all had bad days. It was more the dull, lost expression his eyes held whenever he was distracted or in thought.

For Jay, the give-away was the deliberate breathing. The blond was very careful to breathe slowly and deeply, with a pause between each inhale and exhale. As a former Army ranger and trained sniper, Jay knew that technique and its benefits.

For Ethan, it was how Jeremy's fingers fidgeted around his glass. Aaron often displayed the same nervous habit whenever something bothered him.

"You okay, man?", Jay asked, studying the younger man intently, the investigator in him on full alert.

Jeremy blinked at him in confusion. "Huh?", he made. Noticing their scrutiny, he smiled ruefully and admitted: "Um...well...not really." Sighing, he ran a hand through his curls, trying to find the right words. "The past few days have been...well, not bad, but not exactly good either", he eventually began. "With everything that's going on, Ollie getting benched on that case, Lucy nearly losing her job over the euthanasia accusation? I guess it's just too much."

"Trouble sleeping?", Ethan questioned.

He lowered his gaze and gave a nod. "Yeah. When I'm sleeping, I'm dreaming. And when I'm not sleeping, I'm over-thinking." He pulled a face and took a gulp of his drink. "My brain's constantly buzzing so it's a miracle _that_ I even get some sleep. At the same time, I'm so goddamn tired that I could stay in bed all day."

Jay rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a sympathetic squeeze.

"I don't know why, but I can't tell Aaron", Jeremy continued. "I'm sure he knows or at least suspects, he always does, but I just can't." He looked at them, features twisted in a mixture of self-loathing and disgust. "How screwed up am I if I can't even tell my own brother? It's not like he doesn't understand."

The hand on his shoulder tightens, making him turn his head to look at the detective. "Don't", the older Halstead brother said, a sharp, almost warning edge in his voice, although it held no malice. "You're not screwed up."

Ethan shook his head in emphatic agreement. "We all have our troubles", he told him. "And needing help sometimes is nothing to be ashamed of." A small voice at the back of his mind mocked him for those words, calling him a hypocrite, but he ignored it. Better a hypocrite than a bad friend or tactless doctor.

Jeremy nodded mutely, eyes dropping again.

The two men exchanged knowing looks once more. "Aaron's not gonna judge you, man", Jay spoke up, "Neither will Oliver and Lucy."

"You know them, Jeremy", the doctor added. "They always drop everything to help out."

xxx

The blond sighed, shoulders sagging even more. He was silent for a long time and Ethan was beginning to wonder if they had pushed too much. But then, Jeremy nodded, straightening a little in his seat. "You're right", he declared softly, raising his head. Determination had sparked in his eyes and his smile was a bit less troubled. "Thanks."

"Anytime", Ethan offered.

Jay smiled and agreed. "No problem. You'd do the same."

After settling their bills and saying goodbye to their colleagues and friends, the three men left the bar. Ethan bid them good night and watched as the two policemen headed down the road to where Jay had his car. The detective would give Jeremy a ride home, unwilling to let him take a cab.

Making a mental note to speak to Dr Charles when he next saw him, the ER resident walked to his own car. The brain was a complicated organ and the mind a wonderous place. Ethan wasn't one to delve deep into other people's psyche, he preferred to leave that to those more qualified for it. But he cared about people, after all, he was a doctor. And he had no trouble helping his friends, especially not when he understood so well what they were going through.


	5. Prompt: Trouble at the Hospital

**Hi guys :) These past few days have been the coldest of the entire winter. And of course, the boiler in my block of flats decided to die on Monday, which meant no hot water and no heating for me. Yay! -14 °C (or -19, if you factor in the windchill) and no heating in a badly insulated attic studio. Washing your hair really is a torture when the water is about 2 degrees away from turning to ice.**

 **Anyways, enough about the weather. This chapter is for CBloom2, who requested:** _My prompt would be something happening in the hospital and Aaron and maybe Will in trouble and their siblings trying to help._ **What a great prompt, I had so much fun writing this. I hope you like it.** **  
**

* * *

It started out as a typical day in the ER - or as typical as a day in an ER in the heart of Chicago could get.

Until Aaron entered one of the store rooms in search of a box of gloves and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"What the-"

A hand roughly shoved him inside, the door closing with a thump. He stumbled and quickly turned around to face his opponents. A tall woman with purple hair was pointing a gun at him, the man beside her simply glaring, although he looked ready to attack. _You've got to be kidding me._

"Where are the drugs?", the woman demanded.

Aaron blinked. "What?", he blurted eloquently.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say because before he even had time to react, a beefy fist slammed into his ribcage, knocking the wind out of him. The nurse doubled over with a choked-off gasp and his knees buckled. The same beefy hand grabbed the front of his scrub shirt and when Aaron opened his eyes - he couldn't remember closing them in the first place - the man's face was inches away from his, a menacing scowl contorting the rough features.

"Listen, you little shit", he growled. "We ain't got the time or patience to fuck around, so answer." Shaking the blond a bit for emphasis, he let go and Aaron sank back onto his heels, trying to catch his breath.

The woman's gaze kept darting to the door and her hands were shaking. Which wasn't very reassuring seeing that she was holding a firearm. "Where are the drugs?", she repeated her question.

"Not in the supply closet."

Sometimes, Aaron cursed himself for his big mouth. This was one of those times. He didn't have long to reflect on his regrets, though because the purple-haired gun-wielder suddenly raised her hand and hit him across the face. Pain stabbed through his skull and everything went white. Then, he knew no more.

xxx

The man stared at his accomplice. "The hell you doing, Jess?!"

"He wasn't telling us where the drugs are, T!", she whined.

T rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and now he ain't talkin' 'cause you knocked him out, you stupid cow!", he snapped back.

Jess huffed and argued: "Fine, so I'll find someone else who knows!" With that, she stomped to the door, yanked it open and stalked off.

Cursing, T rushed after her as she marched down the corridor, heading straight towards a doctor who didn't seem to have noticed her.

xxx

Will was completely absorbed in the file in his hand. Eyebrows pulled together in a frown of concentration, he studied the lab results of his patient. Joshua's mother insisted that vitamin deficiency was to blame for her son's listlessness and permanent exhaustion. However, the lab results suggested that the root to Joshua's symptoms was of a more psychological nature. Dr Charles would probably be of more help to the teen than-

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he nearly collided with somebody. "Sorry", he said, taking a step back.

The purple-haired woman simpered and replied: "You will be if you don't tell me what we want to know." She waved the gun in her hand.

Before Will could really comprehend what was going on, he was roughly pushed into one of the supply rooms. Just barely managing to keep his equilibrium, he caught a glimpse of light blue out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he gasped in shock. "Aaron!"

Doctor's instincts momentarily overriding his confusion and fear, he hurried over to the limp form of his friend and carefully rolled him onto his back. "Aaron? Hey, open your eyes", he ordered.

The blond's brows furrowed and a low groan escaped him. His eyelids slowly blinked open, revealing a pair of clouded orbs. "Oh", he mumbled. "Hey Dr Halstead. Fancy meeting you here."

Will sighed in relief and helped his friend sit up and lean against the wall while he examined the bleeding gash on the side of his head.

* * *

Unbeknownst to their captors, April, who had gone to see what took Aaron so long to get one box of gloves, had just rounded the corner when they had grabbed Will. The surgeon had managed to shoot her a look before he had been shoved through the door. Turning on her heel, she sprinted to the nurses' desk in the middle of the ER. "Maggie!", she cried, "Doctor Halstead has been taken hostage in the supply room!"

The charge nurse whirled around, horror painted across her features. "And Aaron's not back yet", she noted, dread pooling in her stomach.

April shook her head in confirmation.

"Right", Maggie said, squaring her shoulders. "Call the police. I'll tell Mrs Goodwin."

xxx

"Code Silver, ER", came over the PA speakers. "Code Silver, ER."

The two men glanced at each other, relief briefly flickering up inside them. _Thank God._

"What is that?!", Jess demanded, jabbing the gun towards them. Her voice had an increasingly hysterical quality to it. "What is that?!"

Aaron, who was gazing up at her from where he was leaning his head against the wall, responded flatly: "It's a code."

Will shot him an incredulous look and if there hadn't been somebody waving a gun in his face, he probably would have smacked him upside the head for his snark. What was he thinking? _He's concussed_ , a voice inside him (it sounded suspiciously like Jay) pointed out. _You know what comes with that._

"Answer the question!", T barked, aiming a kick at the nurse. The blond moaned as the boot connected with his side, sending waves of pain through his torso and making his head swim. He shut his eyes tightly and wrapped an arm around his ribs which he desperately hoped were only bruised.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!", Will called, trying to defuse the situation. He crouched beside his friend, hands thrown out in front of him in a gesture that was both placating and protective. "It means that they know you're here and that police are on their way." He thought it wise not to mention that the code actually signified 'aggressive person with weapon'.

Jess blanched. "P-police?", she stammered before regaining her composure and snapping at her accomplice: "That wasn't supposed to happen!"

T sniped back: "You think _I_ wanna go to jail? We're only here 'cause _you_ wanted the good stuff!"

A whimper escaped Aaron as all the shouting aggravated his pounding headache even more. His vision was shot to hell and breathing hurt. _And the day started out so nicely..._ , he sighed internally.

Will looked over to him, worry ratcheting up a notch. His friend's complexion was slowly transitioning from sickly-greenish-pale to sheet-white, making the blood on his forehead stand out even more glaringly. He was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Okay", Jess muttered, pacing up and down before them, "okay, okay." She came to an abrupt stop, turning to T. "They can't do anything to us 'cause we got hostages."

T nodded and for a moment, the two robbers seemed satisfied.

xxx

"So, what's your plan then?", Will asked, breaking the silence. "Make a run for the pharmacy and use us as leverage?" This situation, along with the concern for Aaron, was unnerving to no end. He hated feeling so helpless and he absolutely hated how these people thought that they could hurt others just like that.

"They'll have to give us the drugs or we'll kill you", the woman reasoned triumphantly.

Aaron huffed a humourless laugh, grimacing in pain as he did so. "Sorry, that's not gonna happen", he said, his voice quiet but still full of conviction. Will feared that the knock on the head may have caused the younger man to lose all sense of self-preservation.

Jess pointed her gun at him while T growled. "Yes", she stated, "it will. We are armed. We are the boss."

"If you say so, but...I'm still not going anywhere", came the blond's breathless response. Talking hurt even more than breathing and he could himself flagging.

Will was watching the woman with the gun carefully, so he caught the flash of panic crossing her face before it changed into fury. "Yes, you will!", she screamed, irately gesturing with her weapon. "Or I'll shoot you!"

Aaron took another strained breath, his head lolling slightly against the wall as he tried and failed to fixate Jess with unfocused eyes. "Tha' 's too bad", he replied, lids closing. "'cause I'm not gonna walk."

In a flash, T had grabbed a handful of his scrubs and was leaning in close. The nurse's eyes had snapped open in alarm and he uttered another noise of pain as T snarled: "You will or your friend here gets another breathing hole."

"He has a concussion!", Will protested, equal parts desperate and frustrated. "It affects the balance and coordination. It can cause dizziness, nausea, confusion!"

The blond unwittingly proved his point as he feebly and awkwardly patted his friend's arm in an attempt to console him. A weak smile titled up the corners of his mouth and he mumbled: "Don' worry, 'm jus' dizzy, not confused. An' I have a headache...a big one."

T had evidently waited long enough. He yanked Aaron up by the collar of his shirt and, glaring at Will, ordered: "We're going. Now."

"But, but-", Jess sputtered.

She was silenced when T snapped: "Shut up and make sure this one" - he pointed at Will - "doesn't do anything stupid." After a moment's consideration, he returned his glare to the doctor and said: "You make one wrong move and I'll snap your friend's neck." Just to drive his point home, he tightened his hold on the dazed nurse, causing Aaron to gasp for air.

"Alright, alright, I get it!"

T relaxed his grip again and Aaron sagged a little. Will swallowed thickly. _  
_

xxx

Keeping their hostages in front of them, Jess and T stepped out of the supply room. The muzzle of the gun was digging into Will's back, a burning point between his shoulder blades. Aaron, however, was practically held up by his captor, each step a wobbly afair which resulted in him getting more or less dragged along by the mountain of muscle that was T.

"Chicago PD! Drop your weapons!"

"Fuck!", Jess shrieked in hysteric frustration, making Will's ears ring for a moment.

He looked over to Aaron. His friend's face was beyond pale and his breathing shallow and strained. He was swaying and his eyelids were beginning to flicker, but his gaze was firmly fixed on Oliver, who gave him a brief smile.

Will was pulled back as Jess used him as a shield while frantically pointing her gun left and right. His eyes automatically found Jay and he sought out his gaze, needing to see the calm confidence there. His brother looked back at him, eyes silently asking: Are you alright?

Before Will could even attempt to answer, T bellowed: "Let us go or we'll kill them!"

Aaron chuckled. The sound was painfilled, but still laced with bitter humour. "With what?", he asked. His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the otherwise tensely quiet hallway, it was still clearly audible.

"I have a gun!", Jess reminded him forcefully, jabbing the gun into his side.

The blond yelped in pain and would have curled in on himself if T hadn't had such a vice grip on him. But somehow, he still managed to dredge up enough strength to smirk and say: "Which isn't loaded."

xxx

What happened next set off a chain reaction that resulted in what could only be described as two minutes of absolute mayhem.

Aaron's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed.

Unprepared for his hostage's dead weight, T relinquished his hold on the nurse.

Police moved in for the arrest.

Jess whipped her head around and screamed at her accomplice: "YOU GAVE ME AN UNLOADED GUN?!"

"YEAH 'CAUSE YOU'RE TOO STUPID NOT TO KILL US WITH IT!", T shouted back.

Then, they were swarmed by an army of police officers who had them on the ground and cuffed in short notice.

Will had torn himself loose and - for the second time in less than two hours - dropped to his knees beside his friend.

"Aaron!"

"Will!"

xxx

Will wasn't quite sure what happened afterwards. It was all one big blur. The only thing he remembered very clearly was the worried expression on Jay's face. ¨

When time finally slowed down again, the surgeon found himself sitting on the ground, knees pulled to his chest, his back against the wall. Jay was crouching in front of him, his hands on his forearms.

"What..." Will trailed off as he became aware of his own hands fisted into the warm fabric of Jay's hoodie.

One of his brother's hands moved to squeeze his shoulder. "It's okay, I got you, just breathe", Jay instructed, a gentleness in his tone that only few were allowed to hear.

Too confused to think, Will complied. Breathing he could handle. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that there were things he wanted to know, things he wanted to ask, but right now, thinking was too much. So he focused on breathing until his chest stopped feeling tight and his head no longer buzzed. All the while, Jay stayed where he was crouched in front of him, holding him and giving him something to hold on to.

"Where's Aaron?", Will finally asked. "Is he okay?"

* * *

It didn't take long to find out.

"He's got a concussion, a cut on the head and a couple of bruised rips", Dr Rhodes told the Halstead brothers. "He'll be fine." Then his gaze fell on his colleague again and his eyebrows creased. "What about you?", he asked. "Are you alright?"

Will nodded, vaguely surprised to hear such concern in the other doctor's voice. It was common knowledge that they didn't really get along. "I'm fine", he responded.

There was a sliver of doubt flickering on Rhodes' face, but he didn't comment. He just smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Good", he offered, sounding sincere. With that, he motioned for them to enter the treatment room he had only just left before nodding at them and walking away.

Completely bewildered, Will looked after him. Shaking his head, he decided not to think too much about it. Exchanging a glance, the two Halstead men stepped into the treatment room to check on their friends.

xxx

Oliver raised his head when they entered, gaze darting over to them. Sheer relief flooded his expression and he quickly stood up. "Thank God, you're alright", he sighed, crossing the room and hugging Will.

"Yeah, I'm fine", the surgeon assured him (and Jay).

The youngest Cohen male smiled and gave his fellow policeman a meaningful look. "Aaron's fine, too", he said with a fond smile. " He was a bit loopy and not making much sense, but he's got a hard head."

Jay chuckled and steered his younger brother to the empty chair in the corner. On the gurney, Aaron's head was turned to the side and his eyes were closed. He was breathing slowly, but regularly. The blood had been cleaned away and the gash on his forehead had been bandaged, the split skin held together by a bunch of Steri-strips.

"He fell asleep a few moments ago", Oliver explained when he noticed their identical frowns of worry. "No wonder, he's probably having the headache of the century." He reclaimed his perch on the edge of the gurney.

After a moment of silence, Will wondered: "How did he know that the gun wasn't loaded?"

"There was no magazine in it", Jay said. Knowing the way Will's thoughts were likely headed, he added: "It's impossible to see when the gun is pointed at you."

The ER resident nodded.

Oliver decided to switch topics and asked: "Do you guys wanna come over to ours tonight? There's food, beer, a big couch. Besides", he commented with a soft glance at his brother, "I'm sure Aaron would feel better if he could see you were okay, too, Will."

They didn't hesitate to accept the offer. "You had me at food", Jay remarked, getting a laugh out of his friend.

"Yeah, nothing's as good as cuisine à la Cohen", Will agreed with a smile.

The blond just grinned proudly.


	6. Connor

Dr Connor Rhodes stood up on the roof, leaning against the railing and looking out over the city. He usually came up here for a moment of peace and quiet. And right now, he desperately needed it. His shift had only started a few hours ago, but the way it was going, he would end up getting off work late. He sighed and took another sip of his coffee, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension residing there.

"Busy night?", a light voice asked from a place to his left.

Connor turned his head, just barely hiding the flinch of surprise. Eyes squinting to see in the dark, he could only make out a vague silhouette. "Yeah", he offered, waiting as footsteps approached.

When the person came closer, the glow of the city lights revealed a young woman in her early twenties, wearing her blonde hair in a curly, slightly shaggy bob. A few more steps and he could recognise her clothing: dark trousers and a fleece jacket identifying her as a member of the CFD. She looked familiar, he thought. Which wasn't surprising since in a hospital, paramedics were always coming and going.

The woman smiled at him and mirrored his stance as she leant against the railing, taking a moment to admire the scenery spreading before them. "Same here", she spoke. "We've had five runs since nightfall already and it's not even midnight yet."

It was the smile that made him connect the dots. "You're Lucy Cohen", Connor realised. "Aaron's sister."

Another smile lit up her features and she nodded, eyes dancing with humour. "That's right. And you're Dr Rhodes."

xxx

"We met before, haven't we?", Connor wondered after a beat. "I know I've seen you somewhere before, not just around the hospital."

Lucy contemplated it for a second before nodding her head once more. "Mhm. Remember that L train accident?"

He pulled a face. "Hard not to. It was on my first day here."

She grimaced in sympathy and continued: "Yeah, so I heard. We were one of the first stations to arrive on scene."

Thinking back, the surgeon's memory provided him with an image of firefighters working to stabilise the structure, paramedics quickly clambering inside to begin treating the victims. "Firehouse 51", he said.

The blonde beamed brightly, seemingly surprised that he would remember something like that. "That's right. Though I'm on Ambulance 84 tonight."

Before either of them could say anything more, the peaceful quietude was broken by a loud noise. Connor sighed as he silenced his beeping pager after glancing at it.

"Duty calls", Lucy commented, a light shrug waving off his apologetic look.

"Yeah. Accident with electricity involved", the surgeon elaborated, opening the door.

xxx

The youngest Cohen sibling easily fell into step beside him as they headed back to the ER. Mind already focused on the incoming patient, Connor noticed it only on a subconscious level. He downed the rest of his coffee, tossing the empty cup into a trash bin in passing.

In the trauma bay, he went straight the nurses' desk, checking in with Maggie to see if she had any specifics.

Meanwhile, Lucy gathered the supplies from the counter and deposited the box in the trainee's arms. "Take these out to the rig and help Johnny put them away", she instructed.

The rookie, Sean Holdinger, nodded hurriedly and rushed out the double doors, nearly bumping into them in his haste.

Chuckling and shaking her head, the firefighter paramedic signed for the supplies and turned to leave. "See you, Maggie, good luck", she called to the charge nurse.

"You too, honey. Stay safe", came the response that by now had become almost a ritual.

When she passed Connor, she added: "So long, Dr Rhodes", a friendly smile on her features. With that, she left, effortlessly sidestepping the busy hospital personnel on her way out, box of supplies tucked under her right arm. The distinct shaggy blonde curls that seemed to run in the Cohen family practically glowed while the rest of her practically melted into the night due to her dark clothes.

* * *

Their paths crossed again less than an hour later when Lucy and her partner, Johnny Simmons, brought in their next patient. "Michael Greminsky, sixteen years old", Lucy informed the medical staff that came to help them manoeuvre the gurney. "Suspected alcohol poisoning. He has-" She was cut off by violent retching, followed by the splattering sound of an emesis bag being filled. "-thrown up repeatedly, is confused and incoherent at times."

"Put him in 4", Maggie directed.

"Just to let you know", Johnny spoke up, "there's three more rigs en route here."

The charge nurse nodded in thanks for the heads-up and began delegating tasks while the paramedics wheeled the gurney with their patient into treatment room 4. Lucy and Johnny helped the nurses transfer Michael onto the bed and Sean, looking nervous and queasy, rattled off the teen's vitals.

Connor entered the room just as Lucy quickly shoved a fresh emesis bag into the hands of the intoxicated teenager. "What happened?", he asked.

Johnny gave him a quick run-down of the scene they had been called to. The original call from dispatch had prepared them for the scenario of a party that had gotten out of hand, but reality had been much worse. Somehow, there were both high schoolers and college kids there and obviously, nobody had bothered to check who drank what. Police had also been called to deal with the legal aspect of the scene.

"Right", the doctor acknowledged before introducing himself to the patient and beginning to assess his condition. "How much did he have to drink?"

"That's anybody's guess", Lucy responded with a shrug as they got ready to leave the room. "His friends were only slightly more coherent than him." Peeling off her used disposable gloves and chucking them in the bin, she readjusted the strap of the med bag slung over her shoulder. With a consoling pat on the shin for the miserable Michael, the blonde followed her colleagues, who had already wheeled their gurney outside.

xxx

As he got off work the next day, Connor found himself thinking about the youngest Cohen sibling. There was something about her that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He knew her from somewhere else than work or through her brothers. But he couldn't for the life of him remember it.

Frustration began to well up inside him the more he thought about it and so he put it out of his mind, deciding that it would come to him eventually. Little did he know that this particular mystery would solve itself in a dramatic and not exactly enjoyable way.


	7. Prompt: Car crash

**This is based on the prompt from the lovely piamaria, who requested** _Can you write something where Lucy is a paramedic (maybe working on the same shift as last chapter) and they get a run and the patient is really confused (concussion, hehe) and maybe we see how she is through their eyes?_

 **What a fantastic prompt, piamaria. I do hope you like how this turned out.**

xxx

Until the end of their shift in the morning, the crew of Ambulance 84 responded to 9 more calls, with one of them getting cancelled and another being taken over by some of their colleagues who happened to be closer. Out of the 7 runs they actually did, 4 were related to alcohol. And after half of those, the three (two and a half, Johnny joked) paramedics had to radio Dispatch to declare themselves unavailable for a while because they had to clean their rig.

"Ambulance 84, status", one of the dispatchers inquired.

Lucy keyed her mobile radio and managed to talk through the jaw-cracking yawn that threatened to escape. "Ambulance 84 available at Lakeshore."

"Copy that, Ambulance 84, stand-by."

She confirmed with a simply "Copy that, Main", exchanging a glance with Johnny and swiping a pair of disposable gloves, stowing them in one of her pockets.

Sean looked between them and asked: "Why don't they call us only when they have a run for us?"

The two firefighter paramedics shrugged. "We might be needed as back-up at a scene", Johnny explained. "Or they don't have an address yet."

"Or they're getting an update on a situation right now", Lucy continued. "Or they have multiple calls coming in and they are giving us a heads-up while they sort through them to see if they are about different incidents or not."

Sean nodded understandingly, mien pensive.

While they waited for Dispatch to get back to them, they walked back out into the ambulance bay. Lucy and Johnny both waved at colleagues, exchanging short greetings but not engaging in any further conversation.

The dash-mounted radio in their rig crackled and the dispatcher's voice came through on the air. "Ambulance 84, MVC, 19 W 62nd Street, 1-9 W 62nd Street."

"Here we go again", Johnny said, starting the motor. "Buckle up, lady and gent, we're off to West Elsdon." After a beat, he added: "So much for getting off on time."

xxx

They reached the incident before any of the fire trucks that had been dispatched as well. Lucy hopped out from the passenger seat, slipping into her turnout jacket as she did so. Her trained gaze assessed the scene. A set of glaring skid marks slashed across the street, ending at smashed-up car that was lying on its roof, one side very close to the wall. A small group of helpers were crowding around the vehicle, trying to aid the occupants. Which wasn't an easy feat considering the ground was covered in shards and debris.

"Sean, grab the red bag and come with me", the PIC instructed. "Johnny, you got them?"

"Sure thing, Lucy", her partner responded, also shrugging on his turnout jacket while beginning crowd control, urging people to step back from the vehicle and to clear the way for the fire trucks.

Lucy knelt down, extremely grateful for the fact that she was now wearing her bunker pants, and peered inside the upside-down car. She had to push aside a now deflated airbag before she could see the interior properly. A pair of wide, panicked eyes stared back at her. "H-help me", the young man whimpered, fingers in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Thankfully, he was wearing his seatbelt, otherwise he would have fallen down when the car rolled onto its roof.

"It's okay, sir, I'm with the fire department", the blonde assured him. "We'll have you out in no time."

The blaring sirens of a fire truck reached her ears. She turned to look over her shoulder and told Sean: "I'm gonna go in, he's in pretty bad shape. I'll need you to hand me the equipment, are you up to that?"

He swallowed, understandably nervous as this was his first MVC, but nodded firmly. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."

Flashing him a praising smile, Lucy proceeded to flatten herself against the ground before shimmying through the car's smashed passenger window, careful not to jostle the vehicle and possibly do more damage. "Alright, sir", she spoke to the disoriented and frightened man, "can you tell me your name?"

"Rahim", he answered through strained breaths. Blood was trickling down his face and he gasped in pain when he shifted a little. "Rahim Zaghloul"

Lucy manoeuvred herself further inside until she was right beside him. "Nice to meet you, Rahim", she offered with a gentle smile, "I'm Lucy Cohen, I'm a paramedic. Can you tell me what happened?"

xxx

A handful of minutes later, reinforcements arrived in the form of a truck company. Tasks were handed out and soon enough, a pair of turnout boots came towards the wreck. "How is it looking, guys?", the voice of Lieutenant Paul Liang of Truck 22 asked.

Sean dutifully reported: "One male, early thirties. Awake and responsive on arrival, but lost consciousness about two minutes ago. His seatbelt is keeping him pinned, but he's not trapped." His voice lowered slightly as he continued: "He's shocky and it seems like he has lost feeling in his lower extremities."

Liang's mien twisted into a grimace, but he gave the trainee a nod.

"Sean, can you pass me the C-collar, please", Lucy requested from inside the vehicle. With a dexterity that bordered on contortionism, she twisted in order to look at Liang. "Hey", she greeted, taking the proffered neck brace and gently putting it on her now unconscious patient.

"Hey yourself", Liang replied, crouching down so she could see him more comfortably. "The guys are stabilising the wreck. I take it we're gonna have to cut him out?"

She confirmed, turning back to them. "'fraid so, yeah. Give me a sec and we'll be ready to go."

Nodding his assent, Liang straightened and called his men to grab what they needed to extract the victim from the battered, scrunched-up car. Meanwhile, Lucy wriggled her way back out of the wreck, gladly accepting the hand Sean offered her to pull her to her feet.

Johnny came over to them, the crowd of bystanders having the good sense to keep their distance. "Did you guys see how weird these skid marks are?", he wondered, gesturing to the dark traces streaking the asphalt. "And how the car is all dented at the back, too?"

His colleagues nodded in unison, Sean slightly more hesitant.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but that looks a lot like somebody rear-ended our guy here at full speed and then beat it."

Liang, who had overheard them, agreed and reached for his radio, saying: "Truck 22 to Main, dispatch police to my location, seems like we have a hit-and-run here."

The static rustled and a dispatcher confirmed the request."Copy that, 22."

xxx

Rahim started regaining consciousness just as he was carefully being positioned on a spine board. He groaned as his vision spun in and out of focus, making the world go topsy-turvy in a blur of colour and sound.

"Hi Rahim", a friendly voice spoke, somehow getting through the haze of dizziness, pain and confusion.

He tried to turn his head towards it, but found he could not.

"Don't try to move", the voice instructed gently, "just relax. We got you."

He blinked for what felt like the tenth time, willing the blurriness to go away. He was floating. There was a cloud straight above him that looked like a rabbit.

Another voice drifted over. "Where are you taking him, Lucy?"

Lucy? His name was not Lucy. Rahim's muddled thoughts tried to disentangle themselves.

"Med", the first voice replied.

Oh. Right. His brain supplied him with a memory. The blonde paramedic with the calm smile. She had introduced herself as Lucy. Lucy something.

xxx

Suddenly, the sky disappeared and was replaced with a ceiling. Rahim felt himself frown at the unexpected change of scenery.

Lucy was speaking again. It went too fast for his sluggish mind and he caught only a few words here and there. "Sean..." "...be nothing..." "...careful..." "...shift..."

Something niggled at the back of his mind. A thought, maybe? It felt important. But every time he tried to reach out and grasp it, it slipped away. A sigh escaped him. This was all so confusing.

"Rahim."

He opened his eyes, absently wondering when he had closed them. The world was clearer this time. He looked towards the source of the sound and saw Lucy smiling encouragingly at him.

"That's it", she beamed. "Almost thought you fell asleep on me."

He went to shake his head, but thought better of it. A noise filtered through all the cotton that had been stuffed into his skull. A wailing noise. A very loud, wailing noise.

Lucy chuckled softly, although her expression shifted into a sympathetic grimace. "That's our siren", she explained. "You're in an ambulance."

Was she a mind-reader, he wondered. Finally, the penny dropped and he felt his eyes widen, heat rising in his cheeks.

"It's alright", the blonde was quick to assure him, her features gentle and free of judgement or unease.

The niggling feeling was back and after a moment of wrestling with the elusive thought, Rahim remembered. And immediately, a tiny part of him wished he hadn't. A jolt went through him, followed by the unpleasant sensation of his stomach plummeting towards the floor.

Swallowing, he regained conscious control of his tongue. "I...I'm paralysed", he mumbled, staring up at the paramedic.

"We don't know that yet", she replied, her tone soothing, yet firm. "You can move your legs, which is a good sign. Your spine might just be bruised, or a nerve could be pinched." The melody of her voice spread a sense of calm, slowly quelling the tingling feeling of _panic!_ that had settled in his chest. The smile returned, reassuring and honest. "We'll be at the hospital soon and the doctors are going to take care of you."

xxx

True to Lucy's words, they reached the hospital mere minutes later. Rahim had drifted off into a particularly odd state between sleep and wakefulness. His eyes were closed, simply because his lids weighed about a tonne each. And while he was aware of the things happening around him, he was somehow oddly detached from it all. It was almost as if his brain had decided that life was too confusing right now and instead had chosen to waltz off to a place of blissful peace and quiet.

He would later find out that it was simply a side effect of the concussion he'd sustained in the car crash. Along with the nausea that had introduced itself in the most spectacular fashion when the antiemetic Lucy had administered at some point wore off. And the nasty headache that had him actually asking the nurse to check if his head was split in two. She had kindly reassured him that it wasn't and had gone to fetch the doctor, who had thankfully given him something against the pain.

Lucy had wished him all the best and told him to not give up hope. "It might not be all that bad."

It turned out that she was right. Bruises on his spine were putting pressure on the nerves, resulting in the loss of feeling he was experiencing. Dr Choi told him that he would make a full recovery. "It's a waiting game until the bruises clear, but you'll be just fine", he said.

Rahim thanked him profusely and asked him to convey his gratitude to the blonde paramedic.

Choi's lips quirked into a knowing grin. "I'll let her know", he promised. "I'm sure she'll stop by, though, so you can tell her in person."

She did. And she was touched and blushed slightly when Rahim took her hand and told her: "May Allah bless you."

xxx

 **Well...this chapter really developed a mind of its own. I honestly didn't plan for this, it just kinda ran away with me.**

 **I hope you like it anyways :) As always, if you have any prompts, comments or criticism, feel free to shoot me a review or PM  
**


	8. April

**Hello everybody. So sorry for not updating sooner. I have been busy writing papers and doing projects for uni and trying to have a little bit of a life beside that... Also, writer's block struck and my muse decided to have a holiday. (Not that I can hold it against her, I was in desperate need of one, too)**

 **Anyways, I'm back with a new chapter. I hope you like it. Part of it is based on personal experience, actually. Can you guess which one? :)**

 **As always, if you have any ideas or requests, let me know. I'm always happy to get a prompt or a bit of inspiration.**

Oliver blew out a sigh and leant back in his chair, running his fingers through his blond hair. Just as he opened his mouth to expel some of his frustration about the lack of leads on their case, the mobile phone on his table buzzed, seemingly rattling the entire desk. Sparing the caller ID a half-hearted glance, he felt his lips twitch upwards a fraction.

Accepting the call, he spoke: "Cohen?"

"Yeah, here too", came the predictable answer, accompanied by a chortle.

Now Oliver's spirits brightened fully. There was always a bit of 'It could be bad news'-apprehension pooling in his gut whenever someone from his family called. But it disappeared when the greeting was cheerful like this one.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?", he asked, catching Jay's huff of knowing amusement from across the room.

He could practically hear his brother's smirk in his voice when Jeremy replied: "I'm just calling to give you a heads-up. One of our regulars just screamed down the house here. They'll be at 21st in...15 minutes? 30 if they forget about the construction site."

Oliver couldn't suppress a groan. "You've got to be kidding me", he complained. "Again?"

Jeremy's gleeful grin echoed in his tone. "Yep", he said, popping the 'p'. "It was quite the show."

"No doubt", the younger Cohen brother muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face and just barely resisting the urge of burying his head in his arms.

"Yeah, Aaron wasn't too happy about being shouted out of bed."

A sarcastic snort escaped him as he knew the feeling only too well. Getting back to the topic at hand, Oliver asked: "Everyone alright, though? Lu wasn't there, was she?" He saw Jay straightening, his gaze shooting over to him and staying, the silent questions mixing with attentive listening.

"No, she's at work. And yes, we're fine. Just-" Jeremy stalling told him all he needed to know. But he waited for his brother to finish the thought that was hesitant to let itself be put into words. He didn't have to wait long.

"I don't know, Ollie, it's funny and all that, but I sometimes wonder if they're gonna cross the line."

The frown that had stolen itself onto Oliver's features softened and he found himself nodding. "I know. Do you want me to up the ante?"

Jeremy chuckled quietly, dark mood lifting again. "Yeah", he said. "Might do them some good."

The blond grinned deviously and made eye-contact with Jay as he answered: "Alright. I'm sure we can come up with something."

"I have every confidence in you", came over the line with a laugh. "Tell Jay I said hi."

"Tell him yourself", Oliver retorted, tossing the phone to his coworker and friend, who easily caught it.

xxx

Twenty minutes later, Intelligence was spread out all over the city following up on some intel that one of Olinsky's CIs had coughed up.

Seven hours later, the case was solved after questioning the witnesses again, going over the evidence with a fine-tooth comb and chasing down the subjects. In the end, the offenders were in custody, Voight was happy and Oliver was in the ER.

The youngest Cohen male had had the misfortune of being tossed down a flight of stairs by one of their suspects. A very _long_ flight of stairs.

And even though he was fairly certain that everything was still in one piece and where it was supposed to be, he knew better than to not get checked out. It was inevitable, really. When one had two siblings working in the medical field, one soon learned to err on the side of caution because the human body was a complex thing and because undetected injuries could make for incredibly nasty surprises.

So there he was sitting in the waiting room, feeling like he had gone a few rounds against Sasquatch. The man next to him, a balding guy in his late thirties who looked like a manager or executive of some sort, glared at him for the third time since Oliver had sat down.

The buzz of a message on his phone pulled him out of his thoughts, which had revolved around counting the tiles on the floor.

 _What's the verdict?_ \- Jay

Oliver snorted, earning him another disapproving look from the man next to him. He ignored it and typed his response: _Pending. Still in the waiting room._

He didn't have to wait long for the reply and it drew a huffed chuckle from his lungs. The man beside him gave him the stink eye again. _That sucks. You tell them?_

 _Texted Jeremy_ , the blond wrote back, wincing when shifting minutely reminded him of the bruises most likely forming all over his body. _Couldn't reach Lu._

 _Platt asked if you want to step your feud up a notch._

He smirked at the message and thought: 'Hell yes'. _Only if they do it first_ , he answered.

xxx

"Oliver?"

He looked up from his phone and saw April standing by the door, a worried expression on her features. He smiled at her. "Hey, April."

The nurse came over to him. "What happened? Are you alright?", she asked, experienced gaze scrutinising him, searching for signs of injury or illness.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine", he reassured her, adding jokingly: "You should see the other guy."

She chuckled. "Let me guess - work?"

The young police officer confirmed.

April winced in sympathy and offered: "Sorry that you have to wait. I'll see if somebody can quickly check you over, so you can go home."

The man who had been glaring at Oliver before had overheard them and gasped in indignation. "I have been here far longer than this guy!", he protested loudly. "I have a right to be treated **first**!"

Oliver meanwhile simply shook his head and gave the kind ER nurse a smile. "It's okay, I can wait."

"Damn right you can!", the man blustered. " **I** have been waiting for hours and **you** have only been here for ten. minutes!"

"Sir", April spoke, hands raised in a placating manner, "I'm sorry for this, but we are very busy at the moment. I'm sure you will be seen shortly."

He huffed like an enraged bull, a vein pulsing on his red forehead. "Busy?!", he repeated. "Busy?! If you're so fucking busy, then why are you here talking to this lazy bastard instead of doing your job?"

"Maybe because she's on her break?", Oliver suggested with feigned guilelessness, making April swallow a grin.

"I wasn't talking to you, you stupid hobo!"

April's eyebrows shot up and her voice turned to steel as she asked the man to mind his language. "Sir, please calm down or security will have to escort you out."

"For what?", he snapped, "Being annoyed after waiting for hours?! For protesting when some obscure schmuck gets special treatment?!"

xxx

Another voice joined them. "What seems to be the problem?", Dr Charles inquired in his usual polite manner. Sharon Goodwin stood beside him, her entire demeanour demanding an explanation.

"Hey, Dr Charles", Oliver greeted, hissing in pain when he made a wrong move. "Hello Ms Goodwin."

The offensive man quickly realised that these new people held a certain amount of authority and immediately launched into another volley of complaints. With difficulty, he stopped himself from hurling further insults towards Oliver and April.

"April, please see if any of the treatment rooms are available", Sharon eventually spoke to the nurse, who nodded and left.

The Head of Psychiatry had meanwhile turned to Mr Murray, the impatient patient. "I understand your frustration, Mr Murray and we apologise for the inconvenience this has caused you. There was a huge accident at a construction site this afternoon and because of that, we are still working hard to clear the backlog."

He huffed, somewhat mollified by the apology, and grumbled: "But that doesn't give **him** " - he stabbed a finger towards Oliver - "the right to be seen before me."

Ms Goodwin smiled thinly before addressing the blond. "Sergeant Voight called for a report of your injuries. Dr Halstead is still in surgery." The second part was added almost apologetically.

Oliver smiled and waved it off. "It's alright, really. If it weren't for that report, I would have just gone home and let Lucy or Aaron have a quick look."

Sharon nodded, accepting his answer and returning her attention to Mister Murray in order to settle the matter.

"Why don't you come to my office?", Dr Charles offered genially. "It's been a while since I last had the pleasure of talking to you."

The youngest of the Cohen boys gave him a cheeky grin and hauled himself onto his feet. "Sure", he agreed easily. "Your couch is way more cozy than these chairs anyway." The joke earned him a fondly exasperated look from Sharon.

They left the waiting room, Dr Charles of course allowing Oliver to set the pace. Behind them, Mister Murray sputtered in outrage while Ms Goodwin calmly explained to him that he would be escorted off the premises by security if he didn't calm down and remember his manners.

"Say, Dr Charles, have any of my siblings told you about the feud?"


	9. Friday the 13th (Part 1)

**Hello guys. I'm so sorry for not updating sooner, I was busy with real life and hit a bit of a writers' block. Anyway, this was inspired by the last Friday 13th. It was a bit crazy... we fished a pen and some change from underneath a car seat, the shutters of my bedroom window broke and we had to go to three different shops to find what we needed. Also, I managed to walk into a grand total of 5 doors in one day, which is a new record for me.  
**

 **Right, enough chatter. Here's the next chapter:**

* * *

Aaron frowned when he saw his little brother walk into the emergency room, his features all stressed lines and exasperation. He traded a glance with Maggie, the ever-watchful charge nurse raising a questioning eyebrow, and went to meet him half-way.

"Hey Ollie."

"Hey Aaron", came the response, more a tired sigh than anything else. "Do you know what day it is?"

Stumped, the nurse blinked at his younger sibling and asked: "Are you feeling alright?"

Oliver blew out a frustrated huff, offering a deadpan "No" before following up with: "It's Friday 13th."

Realisation arrived with the grace of a charging bull. "Oh", Aaron made. That simple syllable, along with his facial expression, effectively communicated more than a complete sentence would have.

"Yeah, day starting to make sense?", the police officer inquired sardonically.

Aaron grimaced and nodded, patting his brother's shoulder in commiseration. "Yes." He then narrowed his eyes, scrutinising Oliver and scanning him with an expert gaze. "Now, what brings you here?", he wanted to know, cutting to the chase: "Are you hurt?"

The younger blond shook his head, a small smile quirking up his lips. "All in one piece", he assured him. "I'm here for Kayla Henderson, I have to ask her some questions."

The nurse hummed and motioned Oliver to follow him to the nurses' desk. "Henderson, you said?", he checked, entering the name into the computer.

"Fight in a high-end clothing store?", the officer prompted. "Lu and Brett brought her in."

He got a nod in response, Aaron muttering something about crazy people under his breath in a tone that told Oliver his brother was currently dispairing of mankind a little.

 **xxx**

Will sometimes wondered how mankind had survived for so long because sometimes, people were crazy and/or stupid, or they did extremely crazy and/or stupid things. Today was one of those days. He had thought April Fools' Day had been bad with all the patients that had come to the ER due to a prank gone wrong. But apparently, Friday 13th had an even worse effect on people than alcohol on a full moon. (No, he wasn't superstitious and he didn't believe in that stuff. It was simply a fact that people tended to be a bit mental on those days, more rash and quick-tempered.)

Dragging a hand across his face and heaving an extremely weary sigh, the ER resident took a big gulp from his coffee.

"You too, huh?"

He raised his head at the sympathetic voice and watched as Aaron and Oliver Cohen claimed their seats at his table, their postures matching his own tiredness.

"It's the date", Oliver agreed with Will's unvoiced response, accepting his brother's cup of coffee despite not having asked for it. He downed a large swallow of the liquid caffeine before handing it back with a grimace. "Jeez, that coffee's as black as my soul."

The dry, borderline bleak comment earned him some short, soft laughter from his friends. Aaron shrugged and said in a matching tone: "Gotta have something to keep me awake on a boring, slow shift like this." He paused and they could see the proverbial light bulb going off in his head. A grin spread on his lips, blue orbs gleaming with an idea. "You know, Ollie, we haven't been to The Mansion in a while", he offered conversationally.

The younger Cohen's eyes lit up with the same light that also seemed to run in the family. Will was torn between curiosity and confusion, even more so when Oliver nodded his head. "You're right. The Mansion would be perfect."

"For what?", the surgeon asked, looking between the two blonds.

They smiled their what he and Jay had secretly dubbed ' _Puck smile_ ', an impish curl of the mouth along with mischief and mirth dancing in their eyes. "Dinner", Aaron explained. "We're on the early shift, so that'll give us plenty time to make food for everyone."

"Everyone?", Will parrotted, feeling like he had missed an important piece of information.

Oliver winked at him, getting up from his chair. "It's gonna be a surprise", he stage-whispered, frustration and exhaustion all but forgotten at the prospect of having dinner at The Mansion with everyone. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and took his leave with a cheerful "See you later!"

The younger Halstead turned to his friend, bestowing the nurse with a puzzled look. "Care to elaborate?"

Aaron beamed. "Nope."

* * *

Jeremy suppressed the overwhelming urge to groan and roll his eyes, focusing on continuing to pretend that he was listening to whatever rant his superiour was on. Sasha was sitting by his side, perfectly well-behaved, apparently paying more attention to the man than her bi-pedal companion.

Eventually, Sergeant Rufer gave a sharp nod as if to say 'There you have it, that's all'. He about-faced and stormed off, leaving Jeremy watching his retreating back with his eyebrows raised. The oldest Cohen sibling glanced down to Sasha, who looked up at him. "What was that about, hm?", he wondered, crouching down and scratching the German Shepherd behind her ears.

She huffed and licked his hand, playfully wagging her tail.

"Yeah, thought as much", the blond chuckled, straightening. He clicked his tongue and patted the outside of his thigh twice to call Sasha to heel. "Ready for a walk?"

Getting an excited yip from her, Jeremy smiled and grabbed the leash from the table.

 **xxx**

It was always exciting to see people's reactions. They did make quite an impression, him in uniform and wearing the leash slung across his chest, Sasha by his side, her black coat shiny and intelligent eyes alert. As a police officer, he was trained to pay attention to people and their behaviour, but it was still fascinating to watch them.

Many moved out of the way when they saw the pair coming. Some did so respectfully, offering a greeting, a smile or simply a polite nod. Others did it uneasily, either wary of Sasha, him or the both of them. A handful did it with an air of great reluctance, which Jeremy found quite interesting, since they weren't required to do it, after all.

Children often fell into one of two categories when it came to Sasha (or any of the police dogs, really): Scared or delighted. The former often kept their distance and eyed the canines nervously, a few eventually tentatively coming closer to pet the dogs if Jeremy invited them to. The latter had no such inhibitions and thus he sometimes had to stop them from overwhelming his furry charges.

"Excuse me, officer?", a young woman with a small child on her hip called from a few feet away.

He smiled and replied: "Yes, Ma'am, how can I help you?"

She shifted, unease furrowing her brow. "Could you put the dog on a leash, please?", she asked, hesitancy in her tone.

Jeremy nodded. "Of course, Ma'am." Crouching down, he clipped the leash into Sasha's collar and had her sit. "I have her, Ma'am, it's alright."

The mother approached, relief evident on her features. "Thank you so much, officer", she said, adjusting her hold on the kid. "It's just, Billy was grabbed by a big dog some time ago and now he's scared of them."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Ma'am", the blond offered. "My sister was bitten by a dog once and she was on edge around that breed for a while, too."

 **xxx**

Billy, who had been eyeing Sasha with a mixture of fear and fascination, whispered something to his mother. She smiled at him and answered: "You can ask the nice officer, Billy."

The little boy studied Jeremy for a beat before shyly asking: "Is she gonna bite?"

"No", the Cohen sibling assured him. "She only bites criminals."

Nodding, the kid asked to be set down. After another long moment of scrutinising the black dog, he slowly inched forward a few steps, glancing at his mother, then Jeremy for guidance. The blond nodded at him, watching as Billy worked through his apprehension and tentatively reached out a hand.

"There you go, buddy", Jeremy said, stroking Sasha's back as she carefully stretched her neck to sniff the boy. "It's alright. She's just taking in your scent, getting to know you."

A few more minutes later, Billy was happily patting Sasha's head and back, beaming widely.

* * *

Meanwhile, across town, Lucy raked a hand through her already dishevelled curls and raised her gaze heavenward. "Thank you", she groaned, drawing out the vowel at the end.

Hermann threw her an amused look. "What are you thankful for?", he asked.

"That this shift is over", the blonde shot back, stepping out of her bunker pants.

He laughed and patted her on the back in sympathy. "Yeah, I hear ya. Everybody's crazy today."

The firefighter paramedic uttered a hum of agreement, which pitched into a soft grunt as she stretched and her spine and shoulders popped. Their calls had ranged from amusing to mind-boggling to frustrating and depressing. And the people they dealt with were more often than not short-tempered, hysterical or ridiculously thin-skinned.

Not that Lucy would ever say that out loud, least of all to their faces. She had simply plastered a patient smile onto her face, kept her voice calm and tried to reason with the people as best she could.

Patting down the innumerable pockets of her turnout gear, the blonde fished out her phone and uttered a surprised hum. Missed calls from Aaron and Oliver, a couple of text messages. Unlocking the phone, she scanned the texts and listened to the voice mails. A smile started growing on her face and she turned around to face the remainder of her coworkers. "Guys, anyone up for some fun tonight?", she asked. "Like...a Cohen dinner?"

Cheers echoed through the locker room. Severide and Casey immediately accepted, along with Gabby and Brett. A few of the guys begged off as they had other plans, while some weren't sure yet.

"Great", Lucy grinned, fingers flying to send a text to her brothers. "I'll text you the details, okay?"

 **xxx**

Walking through the double doors of Gaffney Chicago Med, the youngest Cohen sibling waved at some familiar faces. Spotting Ms Goodwin, Lucy quickly made a beeline for her. "Ms Goodwin!", she greeted the woman who was in charge of the hospital. "Busy?"

Sharon smiled and confirmed. "You know how it is, Lucy, Friday 13th is crazy." Her sharp gaze scanned the younger woman and she queried: "Are you here to see your brother?"

Lucy nodded.

"Last I know is that he went on his break", Ms Goodwin told her. "But Maggie knows where he is."

"Thanks, Ms Goodwin", the blonde said with a big smile before bustling off.

The charge nurse always knew where her co-workers were, it was part of her job. And her personality. Maggie was a bit of a motherhen and had no qualms about employing various techniques to take care of her colleagues and friends. She simply smiled knowingly at the blonde and pointed her in the direction of an on-call room.

Lucy's eyebrows rose before pulling together. "Boy, that bad, huh?"

A simple nod confirmed what she already knew.

* * *

Connor was beyond surprised when Aaron came ambling into the doctor's lounge and headed straight for him. "Hi Dr Rhodes", the blond greeted. "Have any plans for tonight?"

The surgeon shook his head. "No", he replied. "Why?"

"Well, you see, we're gonna have a dinner party at The Mansion and it'd be great if you could come." The nurse smiled eagerly, bouncing a little on his feet.

He blinked. "A dinner party", he repeated, unable to match his impression of the Cohens as down-to-earth, modest and homely people with the idea of them hosting a dinner party. "And...The Mansion?"

Aaron laughed at Connor's disbelieving expression and tone. "Well, not _that_ kind of dinner party", he explained, "just a normal, casual - and by that I mean nice and cosy - dinner with friends. You could come in a pair of sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt and you'd still fit right in."

 _That sounds more like it_ , the former trauma fellow thought. And before he knew it, he found himself promising to come.

"Awesome!", Aaron beamed, whipping out his phone to fire off a text to somebody. "We'll text you the details later, okay? Oh, and don't worry about bringing anything, just bring yourself and we're already happy."

With a parting grin, the blond nurse bustled out of the doctor's lounge again, leaving behind a mildly discombobulated Dr Rhodes.


	10. Friday the 13th (Part 2)

"Are you sure that this is the right address?"

Jay shot his brother an exasperated look. " _Yes_ , Will", he said. "Just like the last 7 times you asked." Not that he wasn't just as baffled. The address Oliver had sent him had led them into one of the fanciest districts of Chicago, right up to a huge villa.

Parking the car, they got out and headed up the stairs. The door opened almost before the bell had finished ringing.

"Hey guys", a smiling Oliver greeted, "come on in." He beckoned them inside, taking their jackets and showing them where they could put their shoes. Then, he lead them into a big lobby and spread his arms. "Welcome to The Mansion. C'mon, I'll show you around."

The interior defied all expectations. Judging by the ostentatious exterior, the Halstead brothers had expected antique furniture, priceless artwork and lavish décor. Instead, the entire mansion was filled with warmth and a sense of homeliness, something they had come to associate with the Cohen siblings. Some of the furniture looked old, but well-loved. There were paintings and pictures, but nothing pompous or pretentious, just beautiful works that added more colour to the rooms.

Entering the kitchen, they were met with a cacophony of greetings.

 **xxx**

Everybody equivocally agreed that biggest surprise was meeting the owner of The Mansion. A few minutes after Jay and Will had arrived, footsteps came down the stairs and approached the kitchen and dining area.

A woman in her seventies entered the room. She was little taller than Lucy and judging by the wrinkles surrounding her twinkling brown eyes, she enjoyed laughing. "You cheeky monkeys", she said with feigned indignation, clicking her tongue and fixing the Cohen siblings with a look. "You had this all planned, didn't you?" She turned to the guests and offered: "I do apologise, you must think me a dreadful host." A large smile broke out on her wisened features as the lady introduced herself: "I am Margaret Cohen, but please, feel free to call me Peggy. Welcome to The Mansion." She beamed. "I am so happy to meet friends of my niece and nephews."

After a round of introductions and some small-talk, Grandma Cohen invited everybody to sit down. "I do believe that dinner is ready", she announced.

The Cohen's cooking skills were well-known and appreciated among their friends. Lucy was often elected cook of the day at the firehouse, Oliver frequently made stake-outs more bearable with his home-made provisions, the food Jeremy brought to the annual Fire or Police Department picnics was in high demand and Aaron's baked goods were famous at Med.

Delicious aromas filled the spacious kitchen of The Mansion as the siblings set everything on the table for the feast they had whipped up.

"There's enough to feed an army", Jeremy said with a proud grin, "so please, tuck in."

They did so with great enthusiasm.

 **xxx**

During their meal, everybody was eager to find out more about The Mansion and the Cohen family.

"How come you've never mentioned that _Margaret Cohen_ is your grandmother?", Adam asked Oliver.

He shrugged. "We don't want people to judge us based on our family", he explained. "I'm sure you can imagine how that would go: 'Hi, I'm Oliver Cohen, grandson to one of the wealthiest women in Chicago.'"

"Yeah, but she's a legend!", Sarah enthused. "She supports so many charitable causes and uses her influence and money to do so much good!"

The middle Cohen sibling smiled and conceded: "That she does."

A few seats over, Peggy was conversing with Dr Charles and Severide, happily answering their questions and discussing topics like family or the difficulties of working in emergency services.

"Why don't you live here?", Matt asked Aaron.

"Yeah", Gabby agreed, "this place is beautiful and more than big enough for all of you."

The nurse took a sip of red wine before answering. "It's just more convenient to live closer to our workplaces. And...well, we wouldn't really fit in this neighbourhood, right?"

Jeremy added: "Also, Grandma uses The Mansion as a venue for gatherings like these, or to put up friends and guests."

 **xxx**

Lucy was laughing with Kim and Sylvie, explaining to them how she and her brothers had come to have a feud with their neighbours.

"I don't think they remember either", she giggled. "But mostly, we do it for fun. It's a ridiculous level of petty, but it keeps us all entertained."

Kim was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes and Sylvie was already holding her sides.

"I guess it's in the family", the blonde continued. "Grandma has had a petty feud against her brother and his family for decades." Grinning, she called to her grandmother: "Isn't that right, Grandma?"

Peggy smiled and asked: "What is, my dear?"

Her granddaughter repeated what she had told the two women, making Peggy chuckle.

"Indeed", she confessed. "My dear brother has maintained for years that he should have been the one to inherit this house instead of me. He is terribly snobbish, you know." She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disgust. "But my parents - may God rest their souls - wanted me to have it and it is noted as such in their will. Not that I want it, mind you."

The assembled guests snickered at her eyeroll.

"However, I can't _sell_ The Mansion because my parents' will stipulates that it must go to my brother first if I no longer want to keep it." Peggy laughed and said: "Which he would like very much. He and his family are horrible enough as it is, flaunting their money as if it made them superiour. He tries to convince me to assign it to him every once in a while, but I won't have it. Either this place gets destroyed in some sort of accident or natural disaster, or I bequeath it to my children."

Laughter rang out and everyone agreed that yes, petty feuds were a Cohen thing.

 **xxx**

When the party finally wound down and people started to leave, they all expressed how much they had enjoyed it. They thanked Peggy for her hospitality, praised the Cohen siblings for their great idea and wonderful cooking and said that they were looking forward to the next dinner party at The Mansion.

Peggy had taken the time to talk to each and every one of their guests personally. She thanked them for their friendship and support that they gave her grandkids, telling them that "a big chosen family is a blessing." She gave everyone a warm hug, wished them well and told them to drive carefully and be safe on their jobs. "This house is always open for you", she said with a big smile. "And if you ever, ever need anything, please, do not hesitate to ask."

To Connor, she spoke a lot during the evening and when he decided to call it a night and head home, she hugged him and smiled widely. "It has been such a joy to meet you, dear", she emphasised. "Now, I know your father and I despise him about as much as my brother" - that made the surgeon chuckle briefly before Peggy leveled him with a serious, but fond look - "so if he decides to cause you problems, I expect you to either tell the four mischiefs I call my grandchildren or call me. It would be my absolute pleasure to help."

He smiled and nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Peggy. I promise."


	11. Prompt: Structure collapse

**It's been quite a while since I wrote something for this collection. I have to say I had no inspiration and I have been pretty busy with other stories, university and real life. Hopefully, it won't take me as long to write the next one-shot, but I can't make any promises...  
**

 **This is for a prompt from anonymous, who wrote** _"I got two words for you: Strucure collapse. Bonus points if the siblings get caught in it somehow."_ **Well, anonymous, I hope you like what I made out of your prompt. I certainly enjoyed writing this chapter.  
**

* * *

The tones blared, alerting Firehouse 51 to a call. What followed was a worryingly long list that toned out almost the entire station, along with several others. "Engine 24, Engine 99, Truck 22, Truck 81, Squad 3, Squad 7, Ambulance 24, Ambulance 61, Battalion 15. Structure collapse, 29 West Mulholland Drive. 2-9 West Mulholland Drive."

While paramedics weren't usually seen wearing full turnout gear, they put them on for certain calls. This was one such occasion. It was just safer to be wearing both turnout jackets AND pants and boots rather than turnout jackets and their regular navy uniform pants and work boots. Helmets were grabbed off the rack and within minutes, the ambulance followed the large firetrucks out of the apparatus bay.

"Structure collapse?", Sylvie Brett mused behind the wheel of Ambulance 61.

Her partner, PIC Lucy Cohen, nodded solemnly, tucking wayward strands of short, messy blonde hair behind her ear. "There's a construction site at that address", she offered. "Office building of some sort. PD had a couple of calls there - it's popular with urban explorers, thrill-seekers and teenagers on a dare."

"Mid-afternoon. There's gonna be loads of people there."

"Mhm. And with the cavalry they dispatched, it'll be more than just some collapsed scaffolding or a ceiling come down."

 **xxx**

Lucy's prediction proved to be accurate. Half of the building had folded in on itself like a house of cards, leaving a huge pile of rubble and debris, spiked with broken scaffolding. Battalion 15, in the form of Chief Renner, took charge and set the firefighters to task after having received a run-down of the situation from the site manager and foreman. Rescue equipment was pulled out, tactics were discussed, backup requested.

"We have 31 people unaccounted for", the Chief informed the men and women under his command. "There are three people stuck on the roof." Getting them wouldn't take long, a simple matter of getting a ladder up there and bringing them back down. "Some four or five were on the third floor, towards the back of the building." Good news since they might just be stuck there and not buried under the rubble. "The other 23 or 24 were working in various parts of the front half when it came down. PD is sending dog units and additional manpower, more ambulances and an emergency response team from Med are en route."

And then the work began.

Truck 22 pulled away and headed to the other side of the construction site, approaching the building from the back to rescue the people on the roof. A group of men from Engine 24 went with them to locate the people that had were assumed to be stuck on the third floor of the still standing part of the building.

The crews of Engine 99, Truck 81, Squad 3 and Squad 7 spread out, starting the slow process of search and rescue.

The paramedics set up a triage area and it was unanimously agreed that Patricia Ventimiglia, the PIC of Ambulance 24, would be in charge of triage since she was the most experienced of the four of them. One of the other ambulance crews would assist her when they arrived, while Lucy, Sylvie and Richard "Ricky" Balldorff joined the search teams. Patricia could handle triage until backup arrived because, well...there weren't any patients to triage yet.

 **xxx**

With blaring sirens , a swarm of police cars joined the sea of blue lights that was already there. Regular beat cops and dog handlers got out, the latter making short work of getting their four-legged partners from the back. Among them were two that bore a striking resemblance to not only each other but also to Ambulance 61's PIC. Same curly blond hair, similar facial features, similar body language.

Absolutely no-one - save for maybe the site manager and foreman - was surprised when they made a beeline for Lucy, an Australian Cattle Dog right with them. After all, the three of them were family. Oliver Cohen greeted his little sister with a half-smile while Jeremy, the oldest of the siblings, gave a command and the dog headed off, nose on the ground.

* * *

Time passed at the speed of a snail, minutes dragging by as if they were coated in thick syrup. Every once in a while, the entire site would come to a complete stand-still as everyone listened for signs of life from those buried under the rubble. After three hours, the three from the roof had been brought down, the four from the third floor had been rescued. 9 people had been found and extricated and another 4 had been located, leaving 11 still unaccounted for.

The search teams all took short breaks to eat, drink and have a quick breather before going back to work. In the triage area, Doctor Will Halstead and two nurses cared for the patients while two of the five ambulances working the scene transported them to the hospital. Of the eight paramedics on site, three worked triage while the other five helped in the SAR. Even the most clueless bystanders realised quickly that the blond nurse was related to the Cohen siblings and those with better eyes or observational skills surmised correctly that he was Jeremy's twin brother.

Daylight was fading fast and a few firefighters took up the task of setting up floodlights in addition to the construction site's own lighting systems to ensure that they had enough light to continue their rescue efforts. They couldn't go about digging around the rubble in the dark and nobody even thought of just abandoning the search until morning.

Five hours and thirty-eight minutes after the first stations had been toned out, there was another collapse. Another part of the building, already unstable due to the initial collapse, crumbled. Three rescuers with near-identical blond curls vanished behind a shower of debris. When the dust settled, Bronte, the Australian Cattle Dog that Jeremy had been working with, could be seen circling a new heap of concrete, bricks and mortar, whining agitatedly.

Over at the triage area, Aaron Cohen stared wide-eyed at the spot where his siblings had last stood.

 **xxx**

A moment of shock froze the rescue effort before they were picked up again with renewed energy and double the worry. There were 8 civilians still missing, three had been found but had yet to be freed from the rubble. Even though each of the first responders on scene wanted nothing more but to rush over to where their comrades, their friends had disappeared, the civilians came first. Only the team consisting of Firefighter Derek Sandoz from Engine 99, Police Officer Jessica Lee and Tiku, a mixed breed husky, headed to the site of the second collapse.

Jessica called Bronte to her and soothed the worried rescue dog with a few gentle words, stroking its dusty fur. The dog's whining ceased. She shook herself, huffed and went back to searching for her bipedal partner, Tiku following suit.

"Do you think they're gonna be okay?", she asked her search partner. She had only recently joined the force, but had quickly come to like Jeremy.

Derek shrugged. "The Cohens have more lives than a cat", he told her as they pushed aside a large slab of concrete. "And their luck is pretty much legendary by now." Silently, he added _Let's hope it hasn't run out._

* * *

An hour passed and the number of missing civilians was down to 5, with another 2 being extricated. The number of missing Cohens was unchanged.

Chief Renner rubbed his tired eyes and sighed heavily. Sergeant Mell of the CPD huffed quietly and muttered: "Yeah, you can say that again." His colleague, Sergeant Doherty from K-9 hummed in agreement. They had been studying the construction site plans, monitoring progress and crossing out the sections that had been searched. It was nearly 10 pm now. The sky was pitch black, but the construction site was brightly lit by a substantial number of floodlights.

One of the radios perched on the wobbly table sputtered and the three supervisors expected to hear another progress report from one of the search units.

"Sarge?", a weak voice rasped over the airwaves. "Sarge, this is Oliver."

Mell picked up the radio and responded. "Good to hear your voice, Oliver", he said, smiling in relief. "What's the situation?"

"Uh..." He coughed. "Blergh. Dark and dusty" - Mell chuckled at that, glad to hear that the young man's humour was intact - "I'm alright, I think. Hard to tell." Another series of coughs interrupted him. "I'm in some kind of basement", he continued, sounding winded. His breath hitched, audible even over the rustling connection, and he asked: "What about Jeremy and Lucy? Are they okay?"

Relief flipped back into worry. Mell cleared his throat before answering: "We don't know yet, you're the first to call in."

"Damn. I'm gonna see if- wait, I hear something." The connection went quiet and the three supervisors held their breath. "I hear a banging", Oliver reported after a minute. "I think that's Jeremy."

Nobody questioned his jugement. They had long since grown accustomed to the Cohen's close bond and deep understanding of each other. Mell nodded and ordered the young officer to be careful when Oliver decided to try and reach his brother.

 **xxx**

It wasn't long afterwards that the second radio on the table squawked. "-one hear me?"

"This is Doherty, is that you, Jeremy?"

A breathless laugh crackled through and the dog handler confirmed. "Thank God. I've been trying to reach you for almost ten minutes. The rubble probably blocked the signal."

Doherty shared a glance with her colleagues before replying: "Well, it's good to hear from you, you had us worried. How are you?"

There was a pause. "Alright, I think", Jeremy said. "Can't really say. What about Oliver and Lucy?"

"Oliver called in a few minutes ago. We haven't heard from Lucy yet. Any idea where you are?", she then asked. "Oliver mentioned that he heard a banging and thought it was you."

"Yeah, I've been trying to find a way out. I think we- argh- we ended up in a basement."

Relaying that this had also been Oliver's opinion, Doherty told Jeremy to keep them updated and to be careful.

"Always am, Sarge."

She rolled her eyes and grumbled something under her breath, but there was a smile on her lips.

 **xxx**

Midnight inched closer and closer and the search was still ongoing. At the command table, the third radio still hadn't transmitted the message they were hoping for. Jeremy and Oliver had both called in at sporadic intervals, keeping their superiors apprised of their progress and eventually reporting that Oliver had found a way through the rubble to his older brother.

The search quadrants were being cleared one by one and there weren't many left. Seven people were still missing - four civilians and three Cohens. The triage area was empty, the emergency response team taking a breather, the paramedics trading off with those that had been with the search teams to give them a reprieve as well. Everyone worked tirelessly, allowing themselves barely more than twenty minutes of rest before getting back at it again.

"Sarge, this is Jeremy, we found Lucy."

Even though the transmission had likely been meant for Doherty, Chief Renner responded. "How is she?", he asked.

There was a small pause.

"I'm fine", came the reply from the woman in question herself. "I think. It's a bit hard to tell...everything hurts."

The three supervisors snorted at hearing the same answer for the third time.

A bark cut through the air, a second quickly joining in. A few seconds later, another dog alerted in another section of the building site.

The radio buzzed. "I hear a dog", Jeremy stated. "It's muffled, but definitely a dog."

 **xxx**

It took another hour and a half until the three Cohens could be brought topside again. The four workers had been found at the same time and their extraction had proved rather difficult - as had getting to the siblings. But eventually, after almost 9 hours, everyone was accounted for.

The first to be pulled out was Oliver. He was hunched over, one arm protectively wrapped around his torso and didn't resist at all when Ricky Balldorff and Pat Ventimiglia guided him towards the triage area. He gave them a strained smile and rasped out a thank-you, the subsequent coughing fit making him grimace.

Lucy was next. She too was covered head to toe in a thick layer of dust and there were several bleeding cuts on her face and neck. Her helmet was nowhere to be seen. Squinting against the glaring light of the floodlights, she gratefully accepted Kelly Severide's help. She leant heavily on him since her left leg refused to support her and constantly buckled under her weight.

And last came Jeremy. Much like his younger siblings, his clothes, hair and exposed skin were powdered grey. He held his right arm close to his chest, awkwardly petting the excited Bronte and Tiku with his left, praising the two dogs for their excellent work. His knuckles were scraped and bloody and he moved stiffly, teeth digging into his bottom lip as Derek and Jessica led him over the uneven, rubble-strewn ground to triage.

* * *

"One of these days", Aaron said as he settled next to his sister on the gurney, "I'm going to forge letters of resignations for you three and tender my own and then we're gonna open up a flower shop or something equally harmless."

They were all settled in the same treatment room. Initially, they had been separated, but by the time Aaron had come back from putting away his jacket in the locker room, Oliver and Jeremy were already settled in Lucy's treatment room. Maggie had only rolled her eyes. She had learnt long ago that trying to keep the Cohens away from each other when at least one of them was still sufficiently ambulatory was absolutely futile. Instead, she had sent Coraline to fetch some cushions and blankets. It wouldn't do for them to make their injuries worse by sitting in the plastic chairs.

Oliver's laugh quickly turned into a cough and he reached for the bottle of water sitting in his lap. Lucy giggled and patted her brother's arm in sympathy. Jeremy snickered, suggesting: "How about a restaurant?"

"Absolutely not", Oliver refused hoarsely. "No thank you. Too hectic."

Jeremy conceded. "Good point. Other ideas?"

"Vet clinic", was the prompt response that was just as quickly refuted by Aaron pointing out that those patients were much harder to reason with and much more inclined to bite you and transmit all sorts of nasty things.

Shifting and wincing as pain shot up her injured leg, Lucy offered her two cents to the discussion. "Hair salon or book store."

Jeremy's eyebrows rose towards the ceiling. "Hair salon? Scissors, hot irons, a ton of chemicals?"

She grimaced. "Yeah... no."

"I like the book shop, though", Aaron commented, his brothers nodding in agreement. "So, flowers or books?"

 **xxx**

They were still debating thirty minutes later when the doors slid open. The staff had been extremely busy clearing the backlog from the structure collapse so patients that weren't in immediately life-threatening condition had to wait. And since the three Cohens' injuries were comparatively minor - they all would have received green tags in triage had they not been the last ones out - they had expected the wait.

"Flowers?", asked Dr Connor Rhodes, bemused and amused at the same time. He pointedly raised an eyebrow at them in silent reproach for sneaking out of their own treatment rooms, but chuckled as it was met with four identical innocent smiles.

Aaron explained: "We're trying to figure out what's better - a flower shop or a book store."

Jeremy elaborated, mentioning the remark that had initially sparked the conversation and summarising the other ideas that they had come up with. "But we can't decide because both have their perks and draw-backs."

"True."

The debate was put on hold so that Dr Rhodes could focus on examining them. He felt, prodded and gently manipulated Lucy's left knee before confirming their suspicion that the joint was badly bruised, but nothing was broken. Jeremy could a sprained wrist and a shoulder contusion to his bloodied hands and Oliver was diagnosed with bruised ribs. They were bruised all over and had a number of superficial cuts and scrapes, but all in all, they had gotten off extremely lucky.

 **xxx**

Examinations over, the discussion continued, Dr Rhodes weighing in occasionally as he treated their injuries. It wasn't the oddest conversation he'd had with a patient and it certainly wasn't too out of the ordinary around the Cohen family. The astonishingly injury-prone siblings had the most stimulating and hilarious debates and Connor always found himself drawn into them if they happened when he was there.

"Why not have both?", Oliver eventually mused, his voice sounding better already after some water and oxygen. "Flower shop and book store in one."

The door slid open again to let in Dr Halstead. Having caught the tail end of Oliver's suggestion, he blinked in puzzlement and asked: "What's this about flower shops?"

"AJ's gonna forge our letters of resignation, hand in his own and then we're gonna open a shop", Lucy answered with a casual shrug, grinning at her friend. Her knee was adorned with a cold pack to reduce the swelling.

Will laughed and picked up a pair of disposable gloves. "Of course. So a flower shop?"

"Or a book store", Jeremy provided, seemingly unbothered by Connor cleaning his skinned knuckles. "We can't decide which. But both in one is a bit difficult, cause there's a lot of dirt and soil and pollen in a flower shop..."

Aaron, who was tending to the cuts littering Oliver's face, hummed contemplatively. "True and books don't really like moisture, either."

The two doctors finished patching up their injuries while the siblings discussed logistics, offering a comment here and there but mostly listening in amusement and sharing a look every once in a while.

The quartet eventually settled on having two shops right next to each other, with a door connecting them. They liked both ideas, but as Jeremy and Oliver were more partial to the flower shop while Aaron and Lucy tended towards the book store, they figured this would be the ideal solution. They all knew that it would remain a hypothetical solution, hopefully for a long time. But in their line of work, it didn't hurt to have a plan B.


	12. Sarah

**To an extent, this is inspired by the trailer to the TV show "Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency". I haven't seen the show yet, but it looks very intriguing, so if anyone has seen it, let me know how you liked it :)**

Sarah laughed at April's anectode about how she had ended up drunk and crying on Aaron Cohen's couch during nursing school. "I was mortified!", April was saying, giggling at the memory. "I wanted to skip school because I was so embarrassed."

"But you didn't", Natalie said. "Right?"

"No. But still, I was so prepared to avoid him for at least a week. Maybe even a month. Or longer. But all those plans were out the window as soon as lunch came around. He caught up to me in the hallway, asked how I was doing and said that his couch was open anytime if I needed it."

Maggie chuckled knowingly and sipped her wine. "Oh, that sounds like a Cohen kid right there."

"And that's the story of how I got to know the Cohen siblings", April concluded with a grin.

They had decided to have a ladies' night and over the course of the conversation, aided by the slight indulgence in a bit of wine, the topic had turned to colleagues and friends from work. And ultimately, they had ended up sharing the story of their first meeting with the Cohen family or at least one of its members.

"So Sarah", Natalie spoke up, turning to the med student. "Who did you meet first? And how?"

Taking another sip of her wine to bolster her confidence, Sarah revealed: "Oliver. I went to high school with him."

The three other women perked up and leant closer, clearly intrigued.

"Do tell", Natalie requested with a grin.

* * *

Sarah met Oliver in high school. The curly-haired blond hadn't really stood out as a brilliant student, great sportsman or extremely popular guy. He had been thin, not yet filling out his body after the last growth spurt, but even then his bright smile and warm blue-grey eyes had inspired some crushes. Now, what really made him stand out - at least to Sarah, was how genuinely nice and sweet he was.

She remembered very clearly how he once got in trouble with the history teacher when he was caught doodling instead of taking notes. How he made Courtney from maths smile when he asked about her new haircut. How he always shrugged off the bad marks in biology with a smile and a "Oh well, my brothers are good at that, so it's okay."

But the first time she really noticing him had been before that. A miserably cold winter day, they had all sat in class, bored and tired as teenagers stereotypically were. It was in English Lit class and the teacher, Mrs Fennsby, was talking about Hemingway. Probably. Sarah hadn't really paid attention.

"Meow."

Mrs Fennsby paused and the students sat up a little straighter, looking around.

"Who was that?", the teacher wondered.

"That was a cat", Anna Verrante replied with unwavering certainty.

"A cat? In my classroom?" Seeing that all her students looked genuinely confused, Mrs Fennsby had them check their bags, desks and the cupboards. "Maybe the poor dear has snuck in during the night and can't get out."

 **xxx**

They searched the entire classroom, every nook and cranny, but no sign of a cat. The meowing persisted, however.

"This is impossible! Please tell me that this isn't some elaborate joke", Mrs Fennsby said, frowning at the usual suspects. "I am honestly worried that there might be a cat in distress somewhere."

The students all assured her that no, they had nothing to do with this.

"Really, Ma'am", Joey McDowell said, "we swear. It's a great idea, but we know you like cats and it would be mean to make you worried."

But that still didn't answer where the cat was since they all could very clearly hear it. Until Oliver climbed onto his desk, reached a ruler up to the ceiling and dislodged one of the ceiling panels. "C'mon, help me up", he told his seat neighbours, Adam and Christopher. The two were on the football team and more than capable of lifting him up.

Handing the panel off to one of the other teens, Oliver pulled himself up to peer into the ceiling, which apparently, was hollow. He gave a mighty sneeze and nearly lost his grip. Christopher moved and manoeuvred the dangling boy's feet onto his shoulders to lessen the strain on Oliver's arms.

Oliver looked down and smiled at him, then informed the class: "It's three kittens. I'll see if I can get them out." Without waiting for Mrs Fennsby's approval, he enlisted Adam and Christopher's help again to boost him up. With a small amount of shimmying, he disappeared into the ceiling.

 **xxx**

They heard him shuffle forward and his disembodied voice softly cooing at the kittens in an effort to coax them out of their hiding place. "Here kitty kitty. Come on out, darling, it's okay, I just wanna help you guys."

"Mew."

"Yeah, I know, it's not very nice up here, is it? Think it's alright if I come a bit closer? Okay." More shuffling. "There we are. Don't worry, honey, I don't bite."

Sarah thought absently that Oliver was astonishingly good at this. Just from listening to his soothing words and gentle, reassuring tone, she felt herself relax.

"Hi there, darling", he crooned. "Aw, aren't you gorgeous? Alright, buddy, that's it. What about you, honey, you wanna come, too? No? Not yet? That's alright, I'll just hang out here for a bit."

Purring reverberated through the room, amplified by the hollow ceiling's structure. A delighted chuckle rang out. "Well, somebody sounds happy. You like that pocket, buddy? Yeah? Cool, that makes things a bit easier for when I get us back out of here. Oh hey, honey. You deciding to join us? Take your time, that's fine. We're in no rush here."

Giggles and churtles rippled through the class as they all listened in captivated anticipation.

"There we go, honey, good job. You wanna go sit with buddy in my pocket? What about you, darling? You like my hand better, huh. Right, let's go."

More shuffling, then Oliver's muffled voice announced: "Hang on, I'm coming back down."

* * *

"It was so cute", Sarah remembered with a smile, "he was holding this tiny kitten in his hand and had two more poking out of the pocket of his jacket."

The women 'aww'ed in unison at the mental image.

"Am I the only one who wants to know where they get that from?", Natalie wondered. "I can't be the only one who wants to know where they get that from."

"You mean their...", Maggie paused to search for the appropriate word.

April supplied: "Cohen-ness?"

They laughed and the charge nurse nodded. "Their Cohen-ness."

"I'll drink to that", Natalie decided and the rest of the women agreed, raising their glass in a toast to the Cohen siblings and their Cohen-ness.


	13. Dr Charles

**Hey everyone. So...it's been way too long since I last wrote a chapter. Hope you don't mind :) This is part character study, something I haven't really done before, so let me know what you think of it?**

 **Also let me know what you'd like to read. More of the siblings' family? Other Chicago Med characters? I've got to say though, guys, I've only watched up to like 2x03 or something... Or would you rather see a similar collection like this, but in the Fire or PD category?**

 **Shoot me a review or a PM and I'll see what I can come up with :)**

* * *

Dr Daniel Charles, Head of Psychiatry at Med, could honestly say that the Cohen siblings were some of his favourite clients. He couldn't really call them patients because they were far more than that. Yes, all four of them had sat in his office for official consultations and counseling sessions, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Aaron was a co-worker and he saw the young man frequently in the ER, the nurse always making sure to at least say hello if he didn't have the time to share a cup of coffee with an old doctor like him.

Unsurprisingly, he saw Lucy almost as much as her brother, coming and going as she brought in patients and occasionally ending up in a treatment room herself - occupational hazard of a firefighter/paramedic. She always had a smile or a friendly "Hi Dr Charles" ready for him when she chanced upon him.

Of course, Oliver was also no stranger in the ER. Sadly, his job as a police officer often led him there to take statements, get information from the doctors or even to guard criminals in need of medical care. And he had also had his fair share of injuries that mandated a trip to the hospital. He always greeted him whenever he saw him and asked how his day was going even when he was in a hurry.

Even Jeremy had been treated at Gaffney a handful of times. A dog handler inadvertently ended up with a bite or scratch every once in a while. More often than not, though, the oldest of the four came to the ER for his twin brother. But no matter the reason, just like his siblings, he always made a point to stop for a quick chat (or, if time was lacking, offering a sincere "How is it going, Dr Charles?").

 **xxx**

In short, Daniel was very fond of these four kind, hard-working and charming people. He would even go as far as considering them his friends. They were smart, loyal and caring individuals that he'd had the pleasure of holding the most fascinating conversations with. He found himself smiling every time they said goodbye because they had gotten into the habit of saying the same thing every time, like a little ritual.

"See you, Dr Charles, take care."

Six words that carried so much meaning. Much more than just the three individual parts of the phrase. (He was a psychiatrist, it was his job to analyse the utterances and expressions of others.)

"See you." A way of saying they would meet again soon. Implied that they were looking forward to the next meeting.

"Dr Charles." His title and last name. A recognition of his professional status. An expression of respect. The tone in which it was said made clear that it wasn't a means of keeping a distance between him and them with regards to their relation.

"Take care." A wish or maybe even a request, to be safe and to look after himself.

But it was more than just that. On good days, it was accompanied by a cheerful smile or a wave, a handshake or pat on the shoulder. Their tone would be upbeat and their eyes full of light and life, a laugh in the melody of their voice. On bad days, it was soft and muted, the smile maybe just a twitch of downturned corners of the mouth, the eyes dim and dark. The sincerity of the words remained unchanged, though. The message behind them the same come hell or high water.

It was an amicable, genuine way of saying goodbye. It was a gentle reminder that they cared for him. And, above all, it was an expression of understanding. They knew how difficult the job of a first responder or medical professional was. They know how difficult life in general could be. They knew and understood and were there to help if help was needed and/or wanted.

Smart and insightful as those four were, they knew or at the very least strongly suspected that he too struggled with his own mind sometimes. Those six words said it all.

* * *

Dr Charles had known the Cohen family for a very long time. He was well-acquainted to Margaret Cohen, the siblings' grandmother. A formidable woman of considerable intellect with a delightfully wicked humour. He'd had the pleasure of conversing with Peggy as she had insisted she call him at several events. She was a fantastic conversationalist, interested and knowledgeable in all kinds of subjects and an utterly generous and giving person. Something that she shared with her grandchildren - and her sons, for that matter.

James and Michael Cohen, the siblings' father and uncle respectively, were just as caring, honest and open.

James, the older of the two by four years, had made a name for himself as the friendliest bouncer in Chicago and had later opened a sports centre that did wonders for youngsters in need of guidance or a sense of direction in life. Kids, teens, tweens - they loved him because he was cool and easy-going, because he listened and because he gave them space, but stepped in when it was necessary. Several adults, including parents, also appreciated what he did and the sports centre thrived and grew on donations and contributions from the community.

Michael was co-founder of that sports centre and worked there part-time. He had initially planned to join the military, but had ultimately decided that he'd rather be a teacher. He taught Geography and PE and was well-loved by his students. Some of his co-workers occasionally frowned at his teaching style, which included playing games, dancing and sometimes holding class outside, but his students adored him because he treated them respectfully and kindly, because he understood them and helped them when they struggled and because he always brought breakfast or snacks to make sure they all had something to eat before big tests or finals.

Daniel saw a lot of not only Peggy and James in the Cohen siblings, but their mother as well.

Annaëlle Maillet was a former professional dancer turned secretary (and later executive assistant) in an accounting firm. The daughter of French immigrants took great pride in her profession and often joked that without secretaries, clerks and assistants, large companies wouldn't be able to function. She was, much like her children, an outgoing and cheerful person who had a vast network of acquaintances and friends thanks to her bright and charming nature. Just like her husband and his family and just like her children, she was open-minded, loyal and fiercely protective of her family and loved ones.

That included Dr Charles. Work schedules permitting, they had tea every now and again, just to catch up and chat. Daniel had greatly admired Annaëlle when she'd still been dancing professionally, drawn in by her passion and charisma. But when he had met her in a bar by pure chance shortly after her career had ended, he had discovered that she was just as fascinating and inspiring off-stage. They had struck up a conversation and when they had discovered that they had mutual friends - or rather, that James Cohen was Annaëlle's boyfriend - their connection had developed, growing into a friendship over time.

* * *

The Cohen family was quite dear to Daniel and as such, he was always happy to offer a sympathetic ear and some advice when it was needed. They had all sat on his couch in his office at some point, working through issues or just getting something off their chest or mind.

Peggy, grieving after her husband Ernest had passed away, afraid that she was being a bad mother to her boys who were grieving just as much.

James, feeling that he was disappointing his late father with his career choice.

Michael, conflicted about his future, guilty for deciding against enlisting.

Annaëlle, heart-broken after a row with her parents who disapproved of her new job as well as her boyfriend's profession.

James and Annaëlle, needing a bit of guidance to solve some relationship issues that came with having children.

Michael, seeking advice on how to best deal with certain kinds of students.

Jeremy, Aaron and Oliver, aged 7 and 4, worried and excited as they waited for news while their mother was giving birth to their youngest sibling.

Michael, plagued by self-doubts after a dispute with a colleague.

Jeremy and Aaron, two teenagers struggling to find their own, separate identities because so many people just few them as one entity.

Oliver, aged 14, frustrated with his exam anxiety and determined to learn techniques that would help him.

Jeremy, having his mandatory psych eval to enter the police academy.

James and Annaëlle, asking for advice on how to deal with the worry of having a loved one in a first responder profession.

Oliver, coming in for his mandatory psych eval to enter the police academy.

Lucy, aged 15, devastated after her best friend broke off their year-long friendship, wondering where her path lead after leaving her career.

 **xxx**

The list went on and on. There were job-related visits from the siblings as well, evaluations and counselling sessions after certain incidents and other difficult events. Professional or personal, they came to him.

Jeremy, who occasionally experienced bouts of depression.

Aaron, who from time to time had trouble disconnecting himself emotionally from his patients and appreciated Dr Charles' help on trying to deal with that.

Oliver, who at times called his own morals, integrity and sense of justice into question and came to him for an outside perspective.

Lucy, who sometimes got sucked into her friends' conflicts and didn't always know how to deal with those situations where she ended up stuck in the middle, trying to mediate between opposing fronts.

There were many people, who disliked psychologists and psychiatrists on principle, who thought that getting counselling confirmed that they were crazy, who didn't want a shrink playing what they saw as "mind-games".

The Cohen siblings, much to Dr Charles' pleasure, didn't belong to that group of people. While they didn't always like talking about what troubled them - understandably so, baring one's soul wasn't something most people were comfortable with - they cooperated to the best of their ability and never made a fuss about needing his help. They were sincere in their gratitude and open to his suggestions and advice.

It was refreshing.

* * *

"Hey Dr Charles."

Daniel looked up from the charts he was studying to see an uncharacteristically nervous Lucy Cohen leaning against the counter. "Hello Lucy. What can I do for you?"

She fidgeted, fingers twitching around an envelope. "Um...I need your advice. I tried figuring this out on my own, but my brain is going in circles and I can't get it out of" - she made air quotes with her free hand - "panic mode."

He smiled at her and guided her to his office where he had her sit down on the couch while he settled into a chair.

"Now, I take it this has something to with this envelope?", he prompted.

Lucy nodded. "Yeah...it's an invitation to the Arts for our Future fundraiser gala. They want me to perform." Her knee was bouncing up and down in a rapid rhythm, her teeth nibbling on the inside of her bottom lip.

"Ah", Daniel made. He didn't say anything further and waited for the young woman to continue. He knew from experience that it might take a little while.

"I mean, it's nice that they asked me. It's an honour. But, I don't know if, if I'm the right person for this." The blonde shrugged, doubt written clearly in the crease of her eyebrows.

"What makes you doubt that?", Daniel inquired.

Another shrug. A heavy sigh. Her shoulders slumped. "You know, I still sing and dance", she began and Daniel could tell by her tone that they were now getting to the heart of the matter. "I teach at the community theatre. But...I haven't done anything big. Not since I left Broadway." She swallowed, absently twirled the envelope in her fingers. "And now this? It's a huge thing, the media are already all over it."

Daniel nodded his head. He knew what had led Lucy to give up her flourishing musical theatre career and he could understand her apprehension. But the question remained: "And what is it that worries you? The media presence?" He was about 70 percent sure that it wasn't that, but asking this way would get her to formulate the real reason herself.

She chuckled softly. "No, that's not it. You know we end up in the media every once in a while. No, I think, I think I'm worried that the media are gonna want to find out what happened and...I don't want that circus. I'm not a Broadway star anymore" - her mien told him that she'd never thought of herself as a star - "and I don't want to bring all this stuff up again."

"Are you worried about what the media will make out of it?"

"Yes. And I'm worried about how it'll impact our family. And...Katie."

 _Ah, there we are_ , Daniel thought to himself. "What exactly about Katie worries you?", he asked.

Lucy ran a hand through her short-ish hair and looked at him with big, conflicted eyes. "I don't want this to hurt her career", she confessed. "Or...to make her think that I'm trying to make her the villain. We both made mistakes."

Daniel had his own thoughts on that, but he kept them to himself. Instead, he set about gently helping Lucy out of her worry spiral.

 **xxx**

Lucy tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. "So...you think I should accept?"

He smiled. "It's your choice", he replied.

"And what is your advice?", she countered, lips tilting into her cheeky smirk. "What would you do?"

Daniel leant forward in his chair and regarded the bright paramedic. "I would choose what gives me joy and makes me happy", he told her honestly. "You gave up a dream because of Katie. Don't let that ruin what you love."

Lucy remained quiet for a long moment, contemplating a scabbed scratch on the back of her hand. Eventually, her expression lightened and she nodded. "I think you're right, Dr Charles", she said, smiling at him. "Katie made her choice and I made mine. I love singing and won't let anything take it away from me." She got up from the couch, notably more energetic than at the beginning of their conversation. "Oh this is going to be great!"

Seeing the cheerful, mischievous glint in her eyes, Daniel's curiosity got the best of him and he asked: "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, since the media's going to be all over this anyways, I might as well have some fun", she replied with a nonchalant shrug and proceeded to tell him about the plan that had started forming in her mind.

 **xxx**

As they were walking through the ER, Lucy heading home and Dr Charles going to the doctors' lounge for a cup of coffee, Daniel told her: "I'm looking forward to seeing you perform at the gala."

He got a blinding grin in return, along with the promise that he'd be in for a surprise - and entertainment.

He didn't doubt that for a second.

"See you, Dr Charles, take care", Lucy tossed over her shoulder, blonde hair bouncing with each step as she left.

Daniel smiled and answered: "Same to you, Lucy."


	14. Tailgater

**Hello everyone! Wow, it's sure been a while since I last wrote a chapter for this collection ... I am intending to post a similar collection in the Chicago Fire and Chicago PD categories. So if you have any prompts or suggestions, shoot me a PM or leave a review here. You will of course be credited for the idea :) I can't promise that the collections will be updated at regular intervals since I'm prioritising other stories, but I promise to try my best.**

 **And for now: I hope you enjoy this new chapter.**

* * *

" _Just one mistake_ ", Aaron sang along to the song playing on the radio. " _Is all it will take. We'll go down in history..._ "

He was on his way home from a relatively quiet shift and since he had actually gotten off a little earlier, he planned on doing some shopping. Compiling a list of things he wanted to get - a few t-shirts for himself wouldn't hurt, JJ absolutely needed a new pair of jeans, some socks for each of the Cohen siblings - he glanced into the rear-view mirror. As he did that, he noticed a large (and quite ugly, if anybody were to ask him) truck coming up from behind at considerable speed.

"If you don't slow down, you're gonna plow right into me", the nurse mumbled, watching the truck while keeping one eye on the road.

The truck showed no sign of slowing down, barrelling towards him. Aaron's grip tightened on the steering wheel, eyes flicking around hastily for an escape route. There wasn't one. Then, just a couple of feet before it would have slammed into him, the truck slowed and fell back.

"So you do possess some common sense", Aaron muttered, shaking his head at the other driver's recklessness.

He had to reassess his opinion when the truck sped up once more and started tailgating him. There were barely more than two feet between their bumpers and Aaron felt his jaw tensing. There was traffic in the lanes on either side of him. If the truck really wanted to hit him, there was no way for him to avoid a crash. Glaring at the stupid idiot in the rear-view mirror, the blond took a deep breath and told himself that this guy was probably just trying to get a kick out of it.

 _Or he needs to compensate for a fragile_ ego, he thought drily, rolling his eyes when the truck backed off again.

 **xxx**

Ten minutes later, the truck was still trying to scare Aaron out of his lane. Or whatever the guy's goal was. Aaron didn't pay him any mind, sparing him hardly more than the occasional glance. He had been in much more frightening and nerve-wrecking situations, an aggressive and pushy tailgater failed to properly intimidate him. Still, it got old rather quickly and he worried for the safety of the occupants of the cars around them.

Fishing out his phone, he cast another look in the rear-view mirror to reassure himself of the license plate before calling the police. Keeping his attention focused on the road, he gave his name and location and explained the issue. He dictated the license plate and was in the middle of telling the dispatcher that he wasn't in immediate danger when he noticed the truck screaming towards him again.

At the same time, the line of cars in front of him slowed.

The truck was going too fast.

"Shit."

He faintly heard the dispatcher ask: "Sir, what's happening?"

Aaron didn't have time to respond. All he could do was brace for the impending crash. Tires squealed as the truck - far too late for it to be of any use - slammed on the brakes. Then, Aaron's car was shunted forward. The last thing he remembered before the deploying airbag knocked him out was the sound of metal crunching, plastic splintering and glass shattering.

* * *

A persistent blaring noise pulled Aaron from oblivion, combined with a throbbing pain in his skull. "Ngh", he groaned, blearily blinking his eyes open. His head spun as he sat up.

After a brief moment of blank confusion, memory returned. _Right. Read-ended by an asshole tailgater. Awesome._ Aaron brought a hand to his pounding head, then spent several seconds fumbling with his seat belt. From what he could see, his car was smushed up pretty good, the front bumper practically fused with the trunk of the Chevy that had been in front of him. Thankfully, the door wasn't too dented. Giving it a shove, he tumbled out of onto the hard asphalt, barely catching himself on hands and knees.

The blaring continued. _Car_ _horn,_ his dizzy mind supplied. With another groan, the blond heaved himself to his feet, leaning against the side of the car for support. Clarity slowly pushed through his daze, training and instinct taking over. "Phone", he said to himself, rooting around the footwell for the device. He found it under the accelerator and quickly checked if it still worked. To his immense relief, it did.

"Thank you", Aaron breathed, tucking it into his pocket.

The next point of order was getting the first aid kit (extensive and stocked with several supplies only medical professionals were allowed to handle). Since the trunk of his car had folded in on itself, he had to clamber over the back seat. Being nearly upside down as he angled for the aid kit made him even dizzier than he already was and he hurried to get upright again.

Shimming out of his wrecked car again, the nurse proceeded to take stock of the situation. And nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and yanked him backwards. His vision blurred briefly as he was spun around to come face to face with the very guy that had caused this mess. "You stupid fucker!", the man bellowed, blood spraying from his split lip. "This is all your fault!"

Aaron gave a non-committal hum, not impressed in the slightest. "Please step back, sir", he said, disentangling the man's fingers from his collar and putting his hands up to get himself some breathing room. "If you had bothered to drive sensibly like everybody else, you wouldn't have plowed into me", he told him matter-of-factly. "Now please sit down and I'll take a look at your injuries as soon as I have an idea of what we're dealing with here."

Stunned to be dismissed so nonchalantly, the man did as he was told, slumping down onto the bumper of the Chevy.

 **xxx**

A cursory look around the accident scene revealed that there were ten cars involved. Five in his own lane. On the lane to their right, two cars had bumped into each other, likely when they had been startled and distracted by the crash. And to their left, three more vehicles had been caught in the pileup by cars shearing out or getting spun out of their own lane. As he assessed the scene, Aaron catalogued any and all visible and apparent injuries for triage.

"Keep pressure on that." "Try not to move around, I'll be right back." "It's okay, it looks worse than it is." Offering assurances and advice to those that were conscious and coherent - which thankfully was most of them - Aaron completed triage of the scene, handing out a few supplies as he went.

He also found the source of the blaring noise. A man slumped over the steering wheel of his car, nose clearly broken. Aaron checked his pulse and was happy to find it steady and strong, so he popped the hood and disconnected the battery cables. Blessed silence filled his ears.

Most pressing matters attended to, Aaron leant against the squashed hood of his car and took a few deep breaths before dialling 911. The culprit was still were he had left him, grumbling and muttering to himself how this was all Aaron's fault. The nurse ignored him in favour of his conversation with dispatch. He rattled off his name and location and explained: "I need to report an MVA. Ten vehicles involved. Injuries mostly ranging from minor to moderate, though at least two people are trapped, so I can't be sure. I'll need the fire department, at least three ambulances and police assistance."

As he relayed further details of the situation, he saw more people climbing out of their vehicles. Some were dazed or bleeding, others appeared to be bystanders coming to help. Three were clutching first aid kits (the much smaller, standard version) as they navigated the debris.

"Help is on its way, Aaron", the dispatcher assured him, his tone smooth and professional.

"Thanks. I'll call back when I have more information", Aaron promised before hanging up. He put the phone away and grabbed his own kit, intent on getting the helpers organised and the ambulatory victims settled. It wouldn't do to have somebody wander off in concussion-induced confusion.

 **xxx**

As soon as people realised that he was a nurse, they automatically deferred to his judgement. He instructed them to keep the victims calm and stop bleedings. "The Fire Department's on its way", he told them, pulling on a second pair of blue disposable gloves as the first had already been contaminated by the blood of the man with the broken nose. "Call if you need help. Don't try to move them."

Grabbing his kit, he headed for the beige station wagon where a middle-aged woman and her teenage son were trapped. Out of everyone, their condition was the most serious.

The mother was unconscious and the teenager quickly working himself into a frenzy trying to get out of his seat belt to check on her. "MOM!", he kept screaming, voice cracking all over from the strain. "Mom, wake up!" In his panic, he didn't notice the blood trickling down his own face or the odd angle at which his arm was bent.

Aaron, however, did and so he hurried to try and calm the boy before he made his injuries worse by straining against his seat belt. "It's okay, buddy, your mom's just unconscious", he soothed. "But she's breathing fine and her pulse is good, too."

The teen's frantic struggles gradually abated.

"Can you sit back for me? I'll check out your mom and then I'll see about coming to check on you, too, okay?"

Aaron got a tremulous nod.

"Yeah ... jus' help my mom first", the boy insisted.

 **xxx**

Thanks to his sister being a firefighter/paramedic, Aaron knew how to safely pop a car window. He instructed the boy, who he learned was called Joey, to cover his mom's head with his jacket and to turn his own face the other way. Joey complied and Aaron broke the glass. Clearing away the shards and smoothing down the edge as best he could, he then set about wrenching open the passenger door.

When it wouldn't budge, he abandoned his efforts and worked with what he had. Sirens could be heard in the distance. "You hear that, Joey?", he said while he carefully assessed the mother's condition. "Help's on its way."

Joey nodded, tears mixing with blood on his cheek. "Mom picked me up from school", he began, his good hand picking at the deflated airbag hanging down over the steering wheel. "She always does on Wednesdays 'cause she gets off work earlier and then we always do the shopping together."

"That's nice", Aaron commented, mostly to keep him talking.

Encouraged and for the moment distracted from his worry and pain, Joey continued rambling. "Mhm. She's also letting me drive. Dad's way too tense, he...keeps telling me 'You know I can't intervene' and 'Pulling the handbrake won't do anything if you're going too fast.' Like...gee, thanks Dad, way to show your confidence in me."

Aaron chuckled and said: "You should have seen my baby brother the first time I got behind the wheel with him in the car. Man, he didn't let go of his seat belt the whole way, he was so nervous." Oliver had been petrified, mainly because he had picked up on his big brother's own nervousness.

Joey laughed. "Really?"

"Yep. But I was probably just as bad the first time _he_ was the one driving." Glad to have the teen's attention off his unconscious mother, Aaron finished bandaging the woman's head wound. A fair amount of blood was caking the side of her face.

* * *

The fire department was first on scene, Truck 93 and Engine 122 from Firehouse 122 pulling up. A minute later, the first police patrol reached the scene of the accident as well, an ambulance not far behind.

Returning his attention to his patients, Aaron was pleased to see Joey's mother regaining consciousness. He reached inside to stabilise her neck as a precaution. People sometimes moved their heads when they came round and he wanted to be sure that she didn't aggravate any potential spinal injuries.

"Mom!", Joey cried, immediately leaning forward in his seat. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Mrs Keane?", Aaron asked, ignoring the way the car frame dug into his rib cage as he angled his upper body so he could look the woman straight in the face. "Mrs Keane, can you hear me?"

He was rewarded with a tired moan and flickering eyelids. "Mrs Keane", he continued, "can you open your eyes for me?"

It took her a few tries, but ultimately, a pair of blue eyes stared at him in fuzzy confusion. "What happened?", was the first question out of her mouth, closely followed by: "Joey? Joey, are you okay?"

Joey took hold of his mother's searching hand before she could descend further into panic. "I'm okay, Mom", he assured he, voice shaky with tears of obvious relief. "I'm okay."

"Your son is doing alright, Mrs Keane. Can you tell me your first name?"

She frowned. "Nicole", she said.

"Very good, Mrs Keane. My name is Aaron, I'm a nurse. I'll look after you and your son, is that alright?"

Mrs Keane tried to nod, but was prevented from doing so by Aaron's hands holding her head in place. The frown on her face deepened, fear and worry twisting her plucked brows. It cleared after Aaron calmly explained to her that this was merely a precaution.

 **xxx**

After several of the civilian helpers had pointed him towards the middle of the wreckage, Lieutenant Bonifacio "BoBo" Borroni of Engine 122 weaved through the dented cars. The beige station wagon immediately caught his eye, mainly due to the obviously professional med kit sitting on the ground and the young man leaning through open passenger window.

"Sir?", Borroni addressed the young man, taking note of the tear in his sleeve and the splashes of blood on the leg of his jeans. "I'm told I should speak to you?"

Blond curls shifted as the man turned his head. "Lieutenant, Aaron Cohen, I'm a nurse at Gaffney Medical. Glad you're here", he greeted him with a surprisingly casual air for somebody who had been involved in a ten-car pileup. "Most of the injuries are minor, cuts and bruises. There's a man with a concussion and broken nose in the blue sedan over there, the girl in the that black car with Michigan plates has a bruised sternum and a mild case of shock."

BoBo's mind scrambled to catch up after a moment of stunned blankness, briefly thrown for a loop by the unexpected, concise report. There was no doubt in his mind now that this man was indeed a medical professional.

"The driver of that Mitsubishi is concussed and his leg is trapped and possibly broken. His passenger has a head wound and complained of shoulder pain, likely a bruise. Then there's the guy on the bumper of the Chevy. Split lip, sprained elbow, might have bitten his tongue, too. Make sure to keep an eye on him, he's the genius who caused this whole mess."

Borroni's eyebrows climbed a little at the dry sarcasm that suddenly appeared in the young man's even tone. He didn't comment on it, though, just cleared his throat and said: "Right. And what about them?", gesturing to the woman whose head Aaron was stabilising and the teen boy gripping her hand.

"Mrs Keane - head trauma, was unconscious for about 10 to 15 minutes, at least two broken ribs and a bruised knee", came the prompt response, paired with a reassuring smile to the victim, "and Joey, who is sporting a head wound and a broken arm. As you can see, they are trapped, so you're gonna need some equipment here."

Giving a decisive nod, Borroni left to give his crew more detailed orders now that he had a clear idea of what they were dealing with.

 **xxx**

Soon after the lieutenant had disappeared, booming orders and instructions, calling for equipment, a pair of paramedics reached Aaron's side. He greeted them cheerfully, recognising them as George and Alex from Firehouse 39. They asked what happened and how he had ended up here.

Giving them CliffsNotes version of the events, Aaron added a run-down of his patients' condition before hold Mrs Keane: "Keep very still, Mrs Keane, alright? I'm going to remove my hands so George here can take over."

"Okay."

Reassuring Joey and his mother one last time that they were in good hands, Aaron stepped back. The paramedics needed room to work, as did the firefighters that were preparing to free the two victims from the wreck. He breathed out a relieved sigh and grimaced as his headache flared, sudden head rush making him wobbly for a moment.

"Hey man", Alex commented, eyeing him critically, "you should sit down and take a break."

 _Good idea._ The nurse mumbled his agreement and started making his way towards his own squashed-up car, aid kit in hand.

* * *

Aaron had his eyes closed and the dizziness had abated again when he noticed that his nose was bleeding. Or at least had bled at some point because his nostrils felt sticky and dry and there was the itching feeling of blood caking his upper lip.

"Huh", he uttered, straightening where had sat himself down in the driver's seat, feet planted on the pavement and elbows on his knees. His disposable gloves lay abandoned at his feet, a small blue and red heap on the grey asphalt. He made to reach for the pack of tissues he always kept in the glovebox before he paused mid-movement. "Idiot, the blood's already dry. What's a tissue gonna do?"

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, the nurse sagged back against the seat, finding the position surprisingly comfortable. He pulled out his phone and was just debating which of his siblings to call - Oliver was at work, Jeremy at the vet with one of his charges and Lucy most likely asleep - when a rather tall and imposing police officer interrupted his train of thought by asking if he felt up to giving a statement.

"If you could just tell me what you remember", she said after introducing herself as Officer Désirée Traber, her brisk tone mellowing slightly.

Aaron scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck and recounted the events that had led to the accident. He tried not to sound too judgemental as he described the truck's erratic and reckless driving, but he couldn't hold back a pointed remark about the other man's disregard for the life and safety of other road users. Officer Traber's expression remained calm and professional as she continued jotting down a few notes whenever something he said struck her as relevant.

At some point, while he was answering some of the questions Officer Traber asked to follow up on a few details of his statement, Aaron also realised that his left knee and shin were sore. Curious, he rolled up the leg of his pants and carefully prodded at the red, bruising areas that were throbbing dully in time with his heartbeat.

Officer Traber didn't seem to mind his distraction, instead asking whether he needed a hospital.

"Nah", Aaron waved off, pushing his pant leg back down again. "I'm just a bit banged up."

She hummed an affirmative and remarked: "You are quite casual about this."

"I've had worse", he shrugged. "And it's not the worst MVA I've ever seen, so there's no need to be dramatic about it. Besides, I can't exactly keep everyone calm when I'm a nervous wreck myself."

 **xxx**

After Officer Traber had finished taking his statement, Aaron was soon released from the scene. Another pair of police officers offered to give him a lift home, which he gladly accepted. He briefly debated taking the stairs, but since his leg protested the idea of having to hiking up 5 flights of stairs, Aaron shuffled over to the elevator.

"Please be empty, please be empty", he sang under his breath as he pushed the call button a few more times than strictly necessary. He didn't need any odd looks, pity or scorn from his neighbours, thank you very much. He was sore, tired and in need of a shower.

Thankfully, his pleas were heeded and the elevator was empty. Aaron let himself sag against the wall, not bothered by the handrail pushing against his hip. The elevator rattled and rumbled upwards as the tired young man contemplated the pattern of the floor tiles. They really were quite ugly. Who in their right mind thought that those weird beige splashes would actually look good?

The doors pulled back and he shambled out into the hallway, digging through his pockets for his keys. "I should stop keeping so much shit in here", he muttered to himself after he had relocated some loose change, a half-empty stick of chewing gum and, inexplicably, a paper clip to the right pocket of his jeans to unearth his keys.

Fumbling with the lock - it was well past its prime and fickle on the best of days - Aaron entered the small but comfortable 4-bedroom apartment he shared with his siblings. It was quiet, not that he had expected much of a ruckus. Oliver and Jeremy were both at work and Lucy most likely still asleep. He kicked off his shoes, dropped the keys in his basket on the drawer and made his way into the living room. A book lay haphazardly on the couch. Likely Oliver's, judging by the crease in the middle of the bookmark. He had a habit of squeezing the ends of the bookmark together, bending it while he read.

Aaron scrubbed a hand through his hair, messing up the curls. Lucy's blue CFD jacket was thrown over the back of a kitchen chair, telling him that his sister had been too tired to change out of her uniform at work. He glanced at the clock over the kitchen wall. 16:09. If she'd set an alarm - which she usually did - Lucy would get up soon. Blowing out a sigh, he reminded himself that he had to get cleaned up.

 **xxx**

He was pulling a cold pack from the freezer compartment when Lucy appeared in the kitchen, dressed in her sleep clothes and a pair of mismatched socks, her blonde locks a tousled mop of a bedhead. "AJ?", she asked, trained eyes immediately honing in on the bruise forming on the side of his head and the cold pack in his hand. "Are you okay?"

"Bumps and bruises, Lu, nothing to worry about", he reassured her with a smile. "But you can check if you want to."

She shook her head, concern dissipating. "Do you need anything?", she wanted to know instead, stepping around him to pull a mug from the cupboard. "I was gonna make something to eat, you want some, too?"

"Sounds great", Aaron said, closing the fridge. "Want some help?"

"Nah, that's okay, you just sit down and use that cold pack."

He grinned and obediently parked himself at the table, propping his left leg up on a chair. While Lucy pulled a number of packages and tupperwares from various shelves and cupboards, he told her about the accident. Unlike during his statement to Officer Traber, he now plainly expressed just what he thought of the man who had so carelessly put others at risk.

Lucy listened as he vented his incredulity and anger, privately agreeing with her brother's sentiments. She'd seen her own share of accidents that had resulted from stupidity, recklessness and arrogance.

Aaron briefly interrupted his tale to thank her when she set a plate with two sandwiches in front of him. She nodded, mouth already full with a bite from her own sandwich, and sat down, silently inviting him to continue. "So anyway", he said, picking up his turkey and mozzarella sandwich, "Fire Department showed up, police and ambulance right behind them. Alex and George took over looking after Mrs Keane and Joey for me, I gave my statement and got a ride here."

"Sounds like everyone was lucky", Lucy remarked with a twitch of her eyebrows. "Ten-car pileup and the worst injuries are some broken bones and mild to moderate head trauma ... ?"

He hummed in agreement, too busy chewing the delicious combination of salad, ranch dressing, turkey, mozzarella and cucumber on wholegrain bread. A bloody nose, a sore leg and a headache, those ailments were hardly worth mentioning considering that he had been in the car the idiot driver had slammed into. "I'll try to find out where they took Joey and his mom, though. I want to make sure they're okay."

His sister smiled knowingly. "And I'm sure Ollie's gonna tell us what happens the guy that caused the crash."

They shared a smirk and chuckled. News tended to spread fast in the first responder community, especially when one of their own was involved in some way. They were under no illusion that by the time their brothers came home, all of the city's cops, firefighters, paramedics and hospital staff members had heard of the ten-car pileup on the highway, caused by a reckless tailgater not paying attention and crashing into the car of an off-duty nurse on his way to run some errands.

"Know what?", Aaron said, shifting the cold pack to his shin. "Next time we're all off together? We're gonna go shopping for clothes."


End file.
